


A Nightmare You Can't Wake From

by NyxWordsmith



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Being Pursued, Being Trapped, General Angst, Graphic Blood Description, Graphic Violence, Helplessness, Insecurity, Isolation, M/M, Panic/Fear, Set mostly in the Imagination- Fantasy based, Swearing, Weapon (Daggers), Weapon (Sword), Wounded Side, injuries, injury descriptions, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxWordsmith/pseuds/NyxWordsmith
Summary: (Sequel to Not Enough-Hiatus)Most of the time, Roman's ventures into the Imagination were harmless. Go in, fight something or help someone. Feel good. Get out and back to normal life.But there have been a few...'incidents' where the Imagination has 'gone wild'. Not often. And definitely not for long enough to reveal that Roman actually has no clue how the Imagination actually works.Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?At first, Roman doesn't even realize exactly how much trouble he's in. It wasn't exactly the first time this has happened, after all. But things soon get out of hand when everything becomes a little too realistic.And then Virgil happens to get himself stuck there too.Leaving a clueless Logan and Patton behind





	1. Prologue

** Prologue **

****

 Roman bit back a groan as he sprinted through the thick forest, breathing raggedly and barely dodging low-lying branches. The beast was getting closer. He could hear it’s heavy breathing, feeling the heat of it’s breath, smell the sulphur burning his nose.

 He had to fight the urge to gag as he quickly banked to the left, a hand resting on his sword as he tore through the thick foliage. An enraged roar made Roman flinch, the air vibrating around him as he fought the urge to glance over his shoulder.

 The prince could almost hear Virgil’s voice, ‘ _That’s how people die in horror films, Roman_.’

 Roman rolled his eyes as he banked again, trying to weave through the thick trees, ‘ _Thanks, Overlord Obvious_.’

 The deep longing to hear the other Side’s voices again gave Roman a knew burst of energy. Weaving and banking at random, Roman could hear the beast’s breathing and roaring get more distant. The woods were too thick for the creature, and Roman had managed to lose it.

 And himself.

 When he finally stopped to observe his surroundings, he didn’t recognise the forest. This must be a part of the imagination he didn’t actually control. Maybe. For all his talk of the imagination, Roman didn’t actually know that much about it. All he knew, was that it was as much in control as he was.

 He turned a few times, hoping to recognise the trees or spot the beast before it fell on him. But there was nothing to recognise, or the beast. It was…eerily silent past his ragged breathing, and he had to force himself to calm down to strain his ears.

 The silence only got heavier and more oppressive as Roman strained. Nothing. No birds, no insects, not even leaves rustling with the breeze.

 ‘ _Bad sign._ ’

 Again, Roman rolled his eyes. If Virgil was actually there, it would have been more amusing. Maybe it would have actually been an adventure, not a close call. Though Roman was loathe to admit it, Virgil _was_ common sense.

 With his breathing finally calm, Roman straightened and let his shoulders drop. Well, it wasn’t exactly what he’d planned for his adventure. But, it had still been eventful.

 He couldn’t help the grin and laugh that escaped him. That had been fun. A _rush_ he’d craved. There was only so many times he could face the dragon-witch before he got bored. And with how dangerous he’d been making her? Well, he’d probably ‘die’ before he got bored.

 He sighed. He did have to return. Logan had asked him to help with the new schedule. And if there was one thing Roman hated more than admitting defeat, was Logan and lectures. The calculator watch could go on for _hours_.

 ‘ _No time like the present_.’ He thought to himself with a smug smirk as he waved his hand with a flourish. He felt his ‘magic’ flow through him, heard the _whoosh_ , but…

 There was nothing.

 Roman scowled. The door refused to answer him? That was odd. Maybe he was in someone else’s part of the imagination? Roman let his feet carry him toward familiar territory, despite the aching in his heels and balls of his feet.

 It would have come as no surprise if the imagination had shaped parts of itself into each of the Sides. Roman already knew that Virgil liked to write angsty, dark poems. That required imagination. Maybe they tapped into it without knowing?

 He found himself musing about the connection, amused and humming as he walked for what felt like hours. But…well, nothing changed. Everything remained gnarled and unfamiliar and dark. This was odd.

 Again, Roman tried to wave his hand. And again, the door refused to be summoned.

 With an exasperated sigh, he continued to trudge forward. He really, _really_ hoped that he was going in the right direction. His inner compass was normally pretty reliable. Unlike poor Patton.

 No, no time to get distracted now.

 It took _hours_. Roman was grumpy, frustrated and tired by the time he saw the sun shining through the canopy above and noticed the trees slowly becoming healthy and vibrant again. There was a small surge of joy, enough energy to push him into a light jog, breaking out into a familiar clearing.

 He did fall to his hands and knees in relief, feeling the soft grass under his hands and considering laying there for a nap. But the idea of napping in his own bed…well, that got him back onto his feet.

 Roman only walked for a few more minutes, confident that he’d gotten far enough into the sunnier part of the imagination. He grinned, back straight, waving his hand.

 There was a flow of magic.

 A soft _whoosh_.

 But nothing.

 This time the prince couldn’t help but let out a frustrated groan. His hands flew into his sweaty hair, pulling a little as he tangled his fingers. “ _No_!” he kicked at a stone, “Really?” he shouted to nothing in particular, letting his hands fall to his sides as he stared at the uncaring sky, “ _Now?!_ ”

 His voice carried through the empty field. Birds twittered and insects chirped.

 Roman didn’t expect to hear the roar he got in response. And frankly, his blood _did_ run a little cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yeah I know! I know I'm already writing something angsty and dragging Roman through the dirt but this is different! It's not supposed to be as angsty, I promise! At least...not *as* angsty. I swear!  
> I had this idea a while back, but didn't really have a reason for Roman to be in the Imagination, or trapped. Then I figured it out. But SPOILERS.
> 
> As always, if there's something that needs tagging, lemme know and I'll fix it right up!


	2. Consolidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Roman in the Imagination and Patton with Thomas, Logan and Virgil have some quiet to piece together the events of the previous week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is probably a slower going fic than my other one, but please bear with me as I build this. It's going to take a bit to get to where we need to go, and I hope you're all buckled in and ready for the ride.

** Consolidation **

 

 The mindscape was considerably quieter than usual as Virgil stumbled down the stairs, his soft black pants gathering around his feet as he yawned. Logan glanced up at him from their dining table, papers and books spread haphazardly around him. The logical trait himself looked all too calm despite the chaos spread out before him.

 “Good afternoon, Virgil.” His greeting was warmer than usual, eyes sparkling behind his glasses as the anxious trait squinted at him.

 “Nothin’ good about it.” He grumbled back, rubbing at his chapped lips with the sleeve of his hoodie on the way to the kitchen.

 Logan grinned, “I am sure you’ll be pleased to know that Roman is off in the Imagination.” He didn’t turn as he heard Virgil fumbling with the kettle, “And Patton has decided to spend the day with Thomas.” A pleased hum was the only response Logan received, “So it should be pleasantly quiet in here today.”

 That earned Logan a contented sigh, “Good.” Virgil whispered. The logical trait nodded back, letting his eyes slide back down to his work and ambling through it. Virgil leant against a bench, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Logan.

 He seemed calmer than usual. His usually frantic movements were absent as he picked up two different notes, regarding them both lazily and morphing them into a single page. A pleased smile spread on Logan’s face as he put the page aside, reaching for another. This was filled with Virgil’s scrawl, the tiny text requiring Logan to sit back and read carefully.

 A hand came up to his chin, his face twisting thoughtfully as he read, eyes turning ice blue as he absorbed Virgil’s anxious scrawls.

 Before Virgil could distract or dissuade him from reading further, the kettle clicked loudly behind him. He flinched and spun to face it, before calming himself with a quiet sigh and poured a mug of coffee. Sipping it, Virgil turned back around to see Logan writing onto his post-it notes slowly, glancing periodically to Virgil’s scrawled page.

 It was not something Virgil was quite used to seeing. The anxious Side was so accustomed to being ignored or dismissed, that _seeing_ Logan taking his thoughts seriously…well, he felt something warm and hopeful in his chest starting to bloom.

 The quiet that settled between them was comfortable and easy. And Virgil was grateful that it could be this way, at last. For a while now, he’d felt most at ease around Logan, who mostly seemed to exude an air of calm tranquillity. When he was calm, every movement was languid and leisurely, a tiny smile spread onto his face as he worked. It was a stark contrast to when the logical Side was stressed or frantic.

 Which was more often than he liked.

 With caffeine in his system, Virgil made his way around to the table, leaning over the wood as he studied some of the pages. Roman’s pages were written on thick stationary, intricate patterns bordering his pages. His handwriting varied from slow, swirling cursive to rushed, frantic scribbles. Patton’s were written of pages of different colours, matching his mood at the time of writing. His handwriting was bubbly and round, unless he was writing on red or grey paper. Then it became blocky, uneven and slanted.

 Logan’s was easiest to read all the time. Lined sheets of note paper were scattered throughout, some of various sizes, marked with sticky arrows or post-it notes. His handwriting was uniform, small and printed, almost like computer font. It slanted slightly when he was stressed, and grew a bit in size, but otherwise it was hard to see the difference. It wasn’t the lettering itself, but the increase in crossed or scratched out words.

 In comparison, Virgil’s notes were the most erratic. He supposed that was to be expected. When calm, his handwriting smooth and fluid, a mix between Roman and Logan. Though, these appeared to be rare. His letters swirled from one to the next, the pen leaving the paper to separate words only. When stressed or anxious, however, his letters flooded together, lost their normal shapes, his wording got jumbled. Virgil’s paper of choice depended on his mood or train of thought. Sometimes, he favoured Logan’s lined paper. On particularly dark days, his paper was black, using a white pen to write.

 He’d picked up the habit of adding the date and time to his notes from Logan. Virgil sipped his coffee as he slipped into a seat next to him. It had been the logical Side’s recommendation actually, to help Virgil keep his thoughts coherent. It had helped, considerably, and when Virgil lost himself on dark days, seeing the time he started helped him to stop.

 Logan glanced up as he morphed another two notes together, a warm smile on his lips, “Organising?” Virgil asked over the rim of his coffee cup.

 “Roman had some particularly interesting ideas last week.” Logan explained as he started pulling out a few of Roman’s pages from the scattered pile before Logan, “And Patton experienced some rather troubling emotions. I am searching for a correlation.” Logan offered Virgil a small pile of Roman’s pages.

 Virgil took them hesitantly, “What am I looking for?”

 “Well,” Logan looked down and adjusted his glasses, “You can see the themes and symbols in Roman’s work better than I can.” Virgil hummed back as he slumped comfortably in his chair, “I find his work difficult to decipher, especially when he employs his metaphors.”

 Virgil smirked at Logan, “And you wanna know why Pat felt sad?”

 Logan nodded, “While I sort through much of last week’s events. We had a very eventful week.”

 Virgil hummed his agreement as he wiggled his eyebrows, “We sure did.” Virgil sifted through Roman’s pages, noticing a reoccurring theme quickly, “Got spare post-its?”

 Logan searched the table for a few moments, and Virgil wasn’t surprised that he had already lost his other pad. He conjured two more, offering Virgil the light grey one and a pen, while he took the pale blue one.

 The logical Side smiled softly as Virgil scribbled on the post-it, carefully peeling it off and firmly pressing it to the page. Even though Virgil hadn’t seen the value in them at first, Logan had noticed that Virgil had started using the little sticky papers everywhere in his room. Some of them were quotes from the others, that he clearly valued deeply, and others were reminders.

 Even now, marking down themes and questions to himself, he was calm and methodical. Logan would have never considered working with Virgil like this a year ago. It was too easy for them both to get de-railed. And Virgil scrawled on everything.

 Without thought Virgil scribbled something on the back of his hand, before catching himself and writing it again on the post-it note. Logan smiled to himself and ducked his head, merging another pair of notes.

 An hour later, coffee finished, Virgil reached for another one of Roman’s notes and frowned at it as he scanned it. “I’m seeing a theme.” He said softly, glancing to Logan as he lifted his head, “He mentions feeling ‘itchy’ and ‘twitchy’. Maybe Princey is feeling unfulfilled somewhere, too energetic for his own good?”

 Logan frowned, gesturing for Virgil to hand over his notes. Virgil complied, getting up with his empty mug of coffee as Logan scanned Virgil’s post-it notes. Virgil returned with two mugs, placing one for Logan in front of him.

 “It would explain why he’s in the Imagination today. Last week required more of his mental abilities than his physical ones.” Logan offered the pages back as he sipped at his coffee, “He mentioned ‘something under his skin’?”

 Virgil sighed, “Yeah, sounds like Princey’s gonna have a dip soon.” He frowned as he muttered it, “Would explain Pat’s mood and my heightened anxiety.”

 Logan frowned, “I don’t quite understand.”

 With another quiet sigh, Virgil lay the papers on the table and sipped his coffee, “Princey uses the term to describe a sense of, uh, ‘wrong’, when he’s losing his confidence.” He tried to explain, “It happens most when he feels, um, ugly.”

 Logan hummed thoughtfully, letting the quiet settle over them as Virgil carefully picked out Patton’s darker coloured pages, “Is there anything we should do?” he asked after a few minutes.

 Virgil bit the inside of his cheek as he picked up his pad of post-it’s, “Not yet.” Logan’s eyes flashed with surprise, “It’s too early to mention it. For now, it’s a dip. If we bring it up now, we might send him spiralling again.”

 Logan grimaced at the unpleasant memory, “You have a valid point.” He conjured his notepad, quickly writing down their findings before waving it away to his room again, “Are you going to look over Patton’s?”

 Virgil waved the small pile of darker coloured pages, “This is a _lot_ for one week.”

 Logan hummed, “Indeed. I am concerned.”

 The darker trait nodded, scratching his nose, “He hasn’t been locking himself in his room, has he?”

 Virgil was already writing a few notes, “Like you?” Logan lightly teased, earning a sidelong glance and pout, “Not particularly. He _has_ been far more active this week.”

 “Still a warning sign.” Virgil muttered, adding it to his post-it notes, “But it is good he’s hanging out with Thomas.”

 Logan smirked to himself, allowing the quiet to drift back down over them again. For all his apathetic, aloof behaviour, Virgil cared. It was one of the _many_ reasons Logan liked doing this with him now. He was observant. And the others were far more comfortable letting their guards down, potentially because it seemed like Virgil _wasn’t_ paying attention.

 “You getting sick?” Virgil asked, glancing up at Logan from the pages, “You’re kinda…flushed.”

 “It is a little warm to me.” Logan answered, getting to his feet and fighting the urge to grin, “I’m going to check my temperature.”

 Logan allowed the smile to pull onto his face as he climbed the stairs, shaking his head. For all of Virgil’s observational skills, he was still entirely _clueless_.


	3. Taking It Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton enjoys his day out with Thomas, but the last week has taken it's toll on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a bit shorter than my usual chapters, but because it's such a slow build, I'm trying to cram as much detail is as I can at the moment. Especially considering their appearances and mannerisms are super important for the rest of the story.  
> Please bear with me.  
> I'm also hoping to update this one a little more often than I have been, but Not Enough has taken over my life. XD

** Taking It Easy **

****

 Patton squirmed on the seat beside Thomas, grinning as his host’s friends threw playful banter amongst each other. It was nice to be with them again, laughing and relaxing after such a stressful, tiring week. Another ridiculous joke from Joan had the table laughing, Thomas throwing his head back and Patton giggling beside him.

 When Thomas excused himself a few moments later to go the bathroom, Patton followed along behind him. The coffee shop was a nice change of scenery. And quiet. Two baristas were playfully teasing each other behind the counter, beaming in the sunlit café decorated in warm pinks and pastel yellows.

 As Thomas was washing his hands, he glanced sidelong at Patton, “You’re awful quiet today.” He commented quietly, grateful that he was alone for a moment with the fatherly Side.

 Patton beamed at him, “I want you to have fun, kiddo.” Thomas rolled his eyes at the term of endearment but smiled anyway.

 “I was surprised you didn’t have a joke to whip back at Joan.” Thomas turned off the faucet, shaking his hands a little before stepping around Patton for paper towel.

 Unlike the videos, Patton was almost a head shorter than Thomas, and Joan had long ago hypothesised that it had something to do with his ‘child at heart’ mentality. Patton didn’t really mind. He’d always been shorter than the other Sides too.

 And a little softer around the edges. Okay, maybe a lot softer. But that just made cuddles better!

 “I’m just enjoying their company, Thomas.” He sagged a little bit, “I’m too tired to interact properly.” He admitted quietly, scuffing his sneaker against the white tiles. His head tilted a little to the side as he looked down, purple hair falling over his face.

 “It was a big week for us all, huh?” Thomas asked, tossing the damp paper towel in the bin before him. He smiled gently at Patton, who raised his eyes, “If you just want to hang out, you can.” Thomas’ own smile brightened as Patton straightened and smiled back, “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

 Patton’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at Thomas, “I will be.” He nodded, hands clapping together behind his back as he swung from his heels to his toes and back.

 Thomas chuckled softly, “Alright then. Let’s go back.”

 Walking once more in quiet, they weaved through the coffee shop and joined Thomas’ friends. Patton sat in comfortable silence, listening and watching, laughing along to jokes and whispering thoughts into Thomas’ ear.

 “Yo, Sandypants,” Joan called from the other end of the table, “We gonna brainstorm for another Side’s vid soon?” they asked, beaming at Thomas with excitement glittering in their eyes. Talyn was distracted on their phone beside them, but glanced up when Joan mentioned the Side’s.

 Thomas beamed back at Joan, “Yeah, when are you free?”

 Joan glanced down at Talyn, who shrugged back at them, “Now?”

 Patton barely stifled a giggle as Thomas spluttered, his eyebrows shooting up before he giggled, “Don’t wanna waste any time, huh, Joan?”

 Joan laughed with him, “Nah!”

 The drive home was filled with even more warmth and laughter, and Patton squirmed happily in his seat. Even though he had enjoyed the day out with Thomas and his _many_ friends, he really wanted to go home.

 The moment Patton was through the front door, he sprinted for the couch, gaining a physical form just before he hit the cushions. Talyn squeaked while Thomas and Joan laughed, setting bags and keys down on their way in.

 “Tired, Patton?” Thomas teased, moving around the couch and tickling the emotional trait for a second on the back of his neck.

 He giggled, flopping onto his back and batting playfully at Thomas’ hands. The host pulled away and Patton sighed, ignoring his crooked glasses, “Yeah.” He sighed, “I’m exhausted.” With a wave of his hand, Patton was changed into his pyjamas, wriggling happily in his cat onesie.

 Joan gently tickled his foot through the fluffy fabric, relishing Patton’s giggle, “Why don’t you take a nap then, Pat?” they asked as they flopped onto the couch beside Thomas, “Or like, whatever it is Dad’s do.”

 Patton giggled again, “ _Cat_ naps sound really good right now.”

 Joan and Thomas giggled as Talyn groaned quietly in the kitchen, sharing a knowing look with Patton, “Go get some rest, Patton.” Thomas insisted, leaning forward to brush hair out of the trait’s eyes, “We’ll take it easy, I promise.”

 Patton nodded with a barely hidden yawn, leaping to his feet to give each of them a hug. Talyn giggled in his ear as he let go and waved, sinking out and back into the mindscape.

 Logan looked up from the dining table, smiling warmly as Patton turned to them. Virgil was asleep at the table, the sleeve of his hoodie pressed to his lips, and Patton barely held back his squeal behind his hands.

 Logan’s eyes were still icy blue as they glittered at Patton, a sign that despite the fact he’d been working, he was relaxed. Patton let his hands drop, a warm smile pulling onto his face, “Maybe we should get the kiddo to the couch.” He whispered.

 Logan nodded once, quietly getting to his feet and helping Patton lift him out of his chair. Virgil stirred, sleeve still tucked close to his mouth, “Wha’s goin’ ‘n?” he slurred, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows drawing together as they moved around the couch.

 “The dining table doesn’t seem to be a comfortable place for optimal rest.” Logan answered quietly, lowering him to the couch and watching fondly as Virgil shifted around. He settled on his side, curled a little, his fist still pressed to his mouth.

 “Pat’n?” he mumbled, yawning around his fist.

 “Here, kiddo.” Patton murmured, crouching down to brush hair out of Virgil’s eyes.

 “Sh’uld ‘ap too.” He shifted a little, nuzzling the pillow under him, “’ired.”

 “I will, kiddo.” Patton smiled proudly at his little shadowling, “You get some more rest, okay?”

 “Mmkay.” Virgil breathed, drifting off once more, snoring softly. Patton remained for a few more moments, watching Virgil sleep peacefully, before he straightened and stretched himself.

 Logan gently rested his hand on Patton’s shoulder, guiding him over to the other part of the couch, “Virgil is right, Patton.” Logan sat first, pulling Patton down with him and pulling him against his side, “You are tired.”

 “What about you?” Patton asked, draping his legs over Logan’s lap and resting his head against Logan’s shoulder.

 “Exhausted.” He whispered, pulling off his glasses and resting them in his lap.

 Patton giggled while Logan loosened his tie, “Ya know, Thomas is gonna fall asleep if we all nap.”

 Logan chuckled, unbuttoning his polo and hanging his glasses from his collar, “I get a distinct feeling that he won’t mind.” Logan shifted a little, sinking into the couch and smiling when he heard Virgil’s tiny hum in his sleep.

 Patton giggled tiredly, pulling his own glasses off and tossing them to the coffee table. On any other day, Patton knew Logan would have lectured him.  It wouldn’t have been the first pair Patton broke due to his carelessness.

 But other than stiffening, a strained sigh and a soft hum, Logan didn’t say anything. He settled back in, pressing a kiss to the crown of Patton’s head, “Remind me to lecture you about that later.” He whispered, “You can’t afford to keep breaking them.”

 Patton giggled tiredly, wriggling closer, “I know I’m blind as a bat, Lo.” He whispered back, sighing contentedly, “But we _can_ repair them.”

 The logical side chuckled quietly, “Smart ass.” He whispered into Patton’s hair and he giggled back. It didn’t take long for either of them to drift off to sleep and naturally, Thomas drifted off too.


	4. Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Thomas' naps while Roman's in the imagination?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this one is super short, but everything else I tried with it fell a little flat. I'm going to make the next chapter longer for you guys, I'm sorry about this.

** Shift **

 

 “No!” Roman cried, “Don’t you _dare_!” he barely managed to dodge a tree branch as he sprinted through the forest, once more lost, “ _Don’t you dare have a nap now, you heathens_!”

 As frustrated as he was, there was no way they could hear him. The beast behind him roared loudly, reminding Roman to focus on what he was doing. And where he was going.

 An idea suddenly occurred to the prince, “Actually!” he clumsily dodged a log, “Please, for the love of Disney, _have a nap!_ ”

 If he was right, the Imagination would shift in response. And for a moment, for however long it lasted, he would have a reprieve.

 Just as Roman leapt to vault a log, the Imagination shifted, leaving Roman tumbling face-first into a field of yellow lilies. Face down in the dirt, he grumbled for a moment before shooting straight up to his knees and turning to look for the beast.

 He was alone.

 He was _alone_!

 Roman laughed, falling onto his back amongst the lilies as he panted and laughed and cried in relief. Finally. A moment to _rest_.

 And gods, did he need it. His feet ached and burned, every muscle in his body screaming at him, exhausted and hungry and thirsty and-

 He had to get to the door. Wherever _that_ was.

 With an almost half-hearted wave, Roman tried to beckon the door. He wasn’t entirely sure if he expected it to appear or not. And he _was_ disappointed when it didn’t. But the tears that pricked his eyes weren’t disappointment. He was _frustrated_.

 This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten himself trapped in the Imagination. He could recall almost five different occasions where it had happened. Roman practically lived there sometimes anyways, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t survive.

 But he wanted to go _home_. He wanted to cuddle up with Patton and cry out his current frustration while Logan patched him up and Virgil put on Disney shows. He didn’t want to be there right now.

 He didn’t want to spend a week, or month, or _whatever_ in the Imagination. He wanted to go _home_.

 Everything within Roman told him to get up. Find a safe place. Rest elsewhere. Not out in the open. And he did _desperately_ want to get up and do those things. But his traitorous body had other ideas.


	5. The Battle Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Roman wakes, he's moody and 'done'. Unfortunately, he's not the only one waking up either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Weapon Mention (Sword), Earthquake (Minor)

** The Battle Begins **

 

 If there was _one_ _thing_ Roman hated more than being locked in the Imagination, it was impromptu naps. He hadn’t realised how exhausted he was until he’d had his moment of reprieve. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him, tense and aching from the long sprint through unfamiliar forests. He felt weak and shaky, undeniably thirsty and _starving_.

 And _grumpy_.

 Patton had always commented that he was a ‘gloomy gus’ when he woke up first thing. It didn’t matter the time of day. Morning, noon or night, Roman was grumpy straight out of bed. And mostly incapable of communication.

 This was made worse by the fact that he was alone. In the Imagination. _And couldn’t get out_. And all he wanted was a hot bath and cuddles and just… _home_.

 If he’d wanted to, he could have sat there and pouted. And he probably would have, if Roman hadn’t felt the first warning trembles in the earth beneath him. Someone was waking up.

 Cursing softly under his breath, aching and groaning as he slowly got to his feet, Roman peered around the field of yellow lilies. Even if he was able to loosen up and pick up to a sprint again, there was no way he’d put enough distance between himself and whatever the beast was.

 His only option now was to stretch out as much as he could, and see if his magic worked at _all_.

 And that was the first piece of good news Roman had all day.

 It took a little more effort than usual ( _cursed Imagination_ ) but he had a small meal and some water to scoff down so that at least dealt with _those_ particular needs.

 Another tremble beneath his feet, stronger this time making Roman stumble, reminded him that he didn’t have a lot of time. The only Side who woke this quickly was Virgil, and Roman had no way of knowing _what_ he was dreaming about. At any moment, Roman could be thrust into a fight he wasn’t ready for.

 He had to take the stretches slowly, his body protesting and fighting his movements, but the more the earth beneath his feet shook, the sky shifted and the wind picked up, the more adrenaline he felt starting to ease the pain. He would sorely regret it later. But that was a problem for later Roman to curse him for.

 After what felt like eternity and also felt like not long enough, the Imagination violently shifted again. Roman stumbled, sword drawn, looking around to re-adjust to the dark, gnarled forest around him.

 He shivered from the sudden cold, trying to ignore the ache in his lower back and feet as he slowly scanned the forest around him. Was it not here? Had it left?

 For once, Roman didn’t let his guard down. Who knew exactly what the Imagination had changed about it’s reality? Roman liked to keep it fairly…safe. Meaning even fatal wounds were harmless, if not painless. But now he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going to die out here.

 And that just wouldn’t do.

 His vigilance was rewarded today, as the beast leapt from behind in a foiled sneak attack. Its tail caught a branch mid-leap, turning Roman to the sound, and he had just enough time to roll out of the way.

 Running had certainly proved fruitless. It was time to fight.

 The creature landed heavily on four, thick legs, and turned to face Roman. It looked remarkably like Toothless, but _fiercer._ Angry red eyes burned at him, teeth turned into sharpened spikes and spines protruding down it’s back and tail. Its tail was _intact_ , so this was an Imagination creature, and Roman took a wary step back when he saw the sharp talons on the end of its feet.

 Okay, so it was a dragon, but not one _Roman_ would have imagined up. Maybe Virgil? Was this Virgil’s doing?

 Roman yelped as he dodged a swipe from the dragon and it hissed at him as it circled.

 Virgil wasn’t _that_ vindictive. Sure, they’d had a stressful week, and hadn’t always gotten along in the past. But they’d been getting along so _well!_ Virgil did seem to know _too much_ sometimes, but he had always left the Imagination alone. Why mess with it now?

 Roman blocked a lazy swipe from the twisted Toothless…dragon…thing…and took a few shaky steps back.

 So, it couldn’t have been Virgil. But maybe it came from his realm? Why was Virgil twisting char-

 On second thought, he didn’t want to answer that.

 He knew the answer.

 The prince saw the dragon draw in a deep breath, and thought to roll away, ducking his head as fire licked around him, loud and angry.

  _How the living heck had he managed to get into this mess_?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this is a little later than usual, but I've been struggling to find the energy to write in the last few days (the ex is finally moving out and it's draining)  
>  And my work schedule is changing my routine a little, so updates could be a bit sporadic (if I continue updating every day)  
>  I'll do my best to continue pumping out good work for you guys, but I might need to slow down for a while for my mental health. <3  
>  I still feel so blessed that you've decided to read this, and your comments mean a lot to me. I read them over all the time, just for a pick me up. So thank you, all of you. So much <3 I cannot express how much you all mean to me <3


	6. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman desperately tries to fight while the mindscape is...quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I did it! I got another chapter out before I got too tired to write! HAHA! Gods, this one was exhausting though. I feel poor Roman's struggle.  
> WARNINGS: Graphic Violence, Blood, Weapon (Sword), Swearing, Isolation, Helplessness, Panic/Fear, Injuries, Being Trapped, Being Pursued (Please let me know if I've failed to tag something and I'll fix it up right away)

** Bittersweet **

****

 Virgil yawned, stretching languidly out on the couch, his feet brushing over a warm body before he slowly sat himself up. Slowly, he peered over at what he’d brushed, eyes barely open as he smirked tiredly at Logan and Patton.

 Patton was curled up in Logan’s lap, again, face buried in Logan’s neck while Logan rested his cheek on Patton’s head. They were both still out cold, mussed and rumpled from sleep, breathing deep and slow.

 Virgil certainly wasn’t going to ruin that.

 He climbed to his feet slowly, stretching himself out as high as he could reach, shirt rising up a little over his hips before he relaxed again, slumping forward.

 That was, by far, the best nap he’d had in a long time.

 

*

 

 Roman braced for the charge, feeling the impact of the dragon’s skull against his forearms and leaning forward as the dragon pushed him back over the weak earth. Glancing back, he caught sight of the incoming tree and ducked messily out of the way.

 He sprinted for his sword again as the dragon’s skull connected with the old, gnarled tree with a sickening crack and the dragon roaring angrily at the pain.

 

*

 

 Virgil yawned again at the coffee machine, humming softly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. His eyebrows shot up as he noted his notifications, eyes brightening a little as he scrolled through his blog. A tiny smile pulled on his face as he replied to some of the notifications, and only looked away when the kettle clicked off.

 Virgil’s lopsided smirk grew a little when he heard Logan wake with a start, already trying to re-orient himself.

 

*

 

 Roman’s frustrated grunt tore at his throat as he blocked another swipe from the beast, the talons and sword meeting with a small shower of sparks. He was already tired, panting and barely keeping his footing as he charged once more at the beast.

 Another successful swipe to the ribs, tearing up through flesh and tendons, the blade catching in the dragon’s leathery wings. The hilt was snatched from his hands once again, and Roman quickly dodged another swipe from the beast.

 It roared at him as Roman got to his feet, his eyes blowing wide when he realised his sword was hanging from the beast’s wing.

 “Oh, _shit_.”

 

*

 

 Logan smirked up at Virgil over his coffee, sipping it as the steam swirled up around his face and fogged up his glasses, but he was too content to care much. Virgil had perched himself on the coffee table, quietly discussing musical theory.

 Logan nodded to him, still a little groggy but offering a few points of his own as he sipped from his favourite blue mug, pulling Patton a little closer when he whined and shifted in his sleep.

 “Apologies, Virgil,” the anxious Side paused, taking the opportunity to sip his coffee, “Have you heard or seen Roman?”

 Virgil shook his head, “Not yet.” He answered softly, glancing down at Patton, “I was going to check later tonight.”

 

*

 

 Roman’s grunts of frustrations had become roars that echoed through the dead air, as he leapt for the beast’s wing, catching the hilt of his sword at long last.

 His body weight tore the sword blade from it’s wing, the dragon screaming out in pain as Roman landed on his feet and rocked back, wobbly from exhaustion and over-exertion.

 If Roman survived this fight, he was _not_ going to fight another dragon for a year!

 He dodged a swipe, slashing his sword along the length of the dragon’s body. Blood splashed onto his sleeves and coat, staining the once pristine white fabric.

 Okay, maybe six months.

 

*

 

 Logan laughed softly, feeling Patton groggily sift his way out of his sleep and raise his head, “Hmm?” he mumbled, looking around the room but finding nothing but blurry colours around him.

 “Hey there, Pat.” Virgil left his mug beside him on the coffee table and folded the father figure’s glasses into his hands, “There ya go.”

 Logan and Virgil watched fondly as Patton clumsily slid his glasses on and yawned, peering once more around the room before a tired, but warm, grin spread on his face.

 “Heya, kiddo. Teach.” He stretched his arms up, falling backward out onto the couch and stretched.

 Logan grimaced, throwing Patton a playfully irritated expression, “Did you really have to do that?”

 “Hmm?” Patton scratched at his chin as he swung his legs off of Logan’s lap, nearly kicking Virgil in the face. Patton didn’t even notice as Virgil blinked wide-eyed at him, “What’s up, Lolo?”

 Logan’s playful irritation became real irritation at the nickname, but before he could chastise Patton, the sudden ache and tingling ran up his legs and he hissed in a breath through his teeth.

 “Lo?” Virgil’s wide-eyed expression had turned to Logan, “Are your…” the anxious trait’s expression turned wicked, “Are your legs numb?” he asked coyly.

 Logan’s eyes blew wide as Patton’s eyes widened a little and a mischievous grin spread on his face, “Don’t you dare.”

 

*

 

 Or _maybe_ , Roman would just kill _all_ the dragons!

 Today! Or tomorrow…

 Soon!

 His swipe missed the infuriated creature, leaving him far too open for far too long. He was truly exhausted, panting and weak, sweat dripping from his face.

 The dragon took its chance, charging at Roman with only three legs, knocking the weakened Prince into a tree and he cried out in pain, feeling a rib or two crack under the impact.

 The dragon pulled back, preparing to bite at Roman, but he thrust his sword up, the blade catching it just above its other foreleg.

 With another wild cry of pain, it retreated a few paces, snarling as Roman grit his teeth and tried to catch his breath.

 “Virgil, now would be a _really_ good time to show up.” He growled under his breath, trying to take a deep breath and straighten.

 

*

 

 Pinned beneath Patton, Logan shrieked as Virgil’s fingers danced over the normally serious Sides’ neck, the other two giggling along with him.

 “If he didn’t kick like a mule-“ Patton grunted as Logan bucked, barely able to hold on that time, “-we wouldn’t have to wait until his legs were numb!”

 Logan whined as Virgil’s assault spread down a sensitive spot on his shoulder, “You planned this?! Didn’t you?!” he cried between howls of laughter and shrieks, desperately trying to wrestle his wrists out of Patton’s secure hold.

 “No,” Patton glanced playfully up at Virgil, only to find the anxious Side looking up at him too. They both grinned, “Not at all.”

 “ _Liars!_ ” Logan finally managed to get a leg under him, the sensation having returned a while ago and twisted himself to the side. Patton lost the grip on Logan’s wrists and they both relented (though if it were Roman…), letting Logan giggle into the couch cushions as they both caught their breath and shared a quiet hi-five.

 

*

 

 Roman was at his _wits end with this bloody dragon!_

 Why wouldn’t it just _die!?_

 Roman had long ago given up on proper form and grace with his sword. The dragon charged and Roman stumbled aside, swinging the blade like a baseball bat at the beast’s throat. It caught, gouging deep enough to hit something vital, spraying blood over the royal.

 But it didn’t bleed long, even as it whined and stumbled back, the initial gush had already reduced to a heavy flow that wouldn’t kill it.

 Roman just wanted to _go home_. He was _tired_ and _sore_ and _so fucking sick of this dragon!_

 “Will you just fucking _die_?!” he screamed, charging at the beast as it snarled at him again, his temper now unleashed.

 

*

 

 “ _Will you just fucking die?!_ ”

 Virgil froze in the kitchen, hand hanging over his coffee cup as he blinked a few times and processed the sound he’d just heard. That had been Roman’s voice.

 He turned abruptly, eyes scanning the other two in the mindscape. Logan and Patton didn’t seem to have heard it, talking quietly in the living room.

 There were a few reasons why Virgil would have heard Roman’s voice in his _head_ like that. And none of them were good.

 “Logan?”

 The logical Side followed Patton’s gaze over his shoulder, to Virgil who had turned to stare in the direction of Roman’s door. He was squinting up at the stairs, as though he could see something there they couldn’t.

 “He really _is_ like a cat sometimes.” Logan whispered, patting Patton’s leg. The moral Side climbed off Logan’s lap, watching as Logan approached Virgil with a tilted head and curious expression, “Virge? Everything okay?”

 Virgil blinked and his eyes focused, meeting Logan’s, “Roman.”

 Logan’s face fell into an expression that was grim and serious, which was a stark contrast to his current dishevelled state, “Go. We can handle things here.”

 Virgil nodded once, looking half-relieved, half-terrified. Virgil sank out, ‘popping’ into Roman’s room and blinking back the harshness of Roman’s bright lighting.

 

*

 

 He really couldn’t take this anymore. His jacket was torn, his sash _gone_ , his sword broken, his body weak and hurting…

 He just wanted to go _home_.

 Roman couldn’t even run properly anymore. He stumbled through the forest, sword abandoned _somewhere_ , one arm wrapped around his chest as he tried to put as much distance between the beast and himself as he could.

 He’d wounded it pretty badly, if he did say so himself, but it was _relentless_. Roman wasn’t even sure what he’d done to piss if _off_ so badly!

 It clearly wanted him dead. Just as Roman now wanted _it_ dead.

 “ _Virgil_?!” Roman cried, unsure if anyone could even hear him, “ _Logan?! Patton?!_ ” his shoulder bounced him off a tree as he struggled to push himself further through the gnarled forest, “Will _one_ of you please just _…!_ ”

 He fell to a knee, head spinning at unbelievable speeds, “…help me?” he whimpered, falling sideways against the tree beside him and felt the hot tears in his eyes, “Please?”

 A soft _whoosh_ nearby distracted Roman for a moment from the sound of the ambling, pissed off dragon.

 “ _Roman?!_ ”

 “Virgil…” he breathed, tears sliding down Roman’s filthy, bloody face as a relieved smile pulled across the prince’s face. His eyelids were so heavy, and _wow_ it hurt to breathe.

 Soft, shaking hands fluttered over his face, “What in the hell did you _do_?! How long have you been here?! Why didn’t you leave?!”

 “I couldn’t.” Roman panted, eyelids fluttering to try and meet Virgil’s eyes, “The door-“

 Virgil’s eyes widened, “Oh _fuck,_ what is _that_?!”

 “Dragon…” Roman breathed back, eyelids fluttering as he balanced precariously on the needle point of consciousness. “Virgil, the door-“

 The anxious Side glanced over his shoulder at the door that was sliding closed on its own, “You can’t get out.” He answered for Roman, who nodded with a whimper. “Fuck,” Virgil tried to get Roman to his feet, flinching and ceasing when Roman cried out in pain, “Sorry, sorry, fuck, fuck-“

 Roman wanted to calm him down, or do anything, to help Virgil think straight. But he could barely keep himself conscious.

 “Sword. Roman, where is it?”

 “Broken…”

 “ _Shit_ , you are having the _worst_ day.” Virgil dragged Roman around the tree, out of the dragon’s line of sight, “Hey, that magic you gave me-“

 “Should still work…” Roman panted, leaning against the tree and resting his head back. He was so _tired_. So tired of this dragon, of the pain, of the Imagination, “The _door-_ “

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re more important.” Virgil snapped, already shrugging off his hoodie and draping it over Roman, “Hopefully, that’ll mask your scent.” He whispered to himself as the dragon ambled ever closer.

 “But…Logan and…Patton don’t…can’t…”

 Virgil got to his feet and glared down at Roman, “I don’t _care_.” Roman had seen that steely glint before, but there was a protective fire lit beneath it.

 Which made Virgil even scarier _now_ than he had ever been as Anxiety.

 “I am not leaving you here _alone_.” Tears blurred Roman’s vision, “Not like _this_.”

 Roman wanted to reply, but the warmth of Virgil’s hoodie, his exhaustion and his injuries sapped his remaining energy, even as their only escape finally vanished behind Virgil.

 But it was better now, Roman mused to himself, he wasn’t _alone_ anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Also, guys, please let me know if I'm under- or over-tagging my work. I know it's kinda scary when they all pop up on one chapter out of the blue. But I don't to hurt anyone. If you find something potentially triggering, please...PLEASE tell me. <3


	7. Reawakened and Worried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped in the Imagination, Virgil has to defend Roman at any cost and it reawakens old instincts within him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it's been a super long time since I updated this, but I found some new inspiration and time for it today! So I hope you enjoy the new installment! (This will be posted to Tumblr eventually!)
> 
> WARNINGS: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD MENTIONS, INJURY DESCRIPTIONS, Insecurity, Wounded Side, General Angst

**Chapter 06**

**_Virgil_ **

 

 The beast was…well it looked like bad, angsty fanart of Toothless. And he probably _should_ have been scared. But seeing Roman in the state he was in…wounded and exhausted and _trapped_ …

 That just made him angry.

 The dragon roared, a sound that was both guttural, desperate and angry, but Virgil didn’t feel the usual spike of fear that came with confrontation like this.

 He’d had panic attacks worse than _this_.

 The dragon faltered as Virgil shifted a foot back behind him, bracing on it, energy coiling in the muscles. Its eyes burned into Virgil’s, his own staring back, feeling that all-too-familiar and yet oh-so-foreign burning starting just under the skin of his hands.

 Oh, it felt _so good_ to have that back.

 With another roar, the dragon shifted its weight, trying to spook Virgil. Was it trying to make him scared? Trying to make him waver? Virgil wasn’t sure. What he _did_ know, was that he wasn’t. Going. To. Budge. Roman was _right there_ , huddled under Virgil’s hoodie, his breathing already laboured and slow.

 He _wasn’t abandoning him_.

 The dragon bared its teeth as a sharp, bitterly cold wind swept over them and reminded Virgil that he wasn’t wearing his hoodie, but for once, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 It felt almost like when they were kids. Roman conjuring a dragon, trying to fight it off and the Imagination going horribly off-script. Maybe if they’d come here before, that would have scared him…would have shaken him just a little.

 But back then, it had been the _threat_ of Roman getting hurt that had torn them apart. Roman’s temper and Virgil’s inability to _listen_. Virgil’s inability to let him try and Roman’s naivety.

 He couldn’t help but smirk, oh…they’d been so young then.

 As the burning under his skin spread up to his elbows, something sparked at his fingertips and surged free. Virgil grinned at the familiar sensation he had _missed_ and wriggled his fingers, _feeling_ the purple flames as they danced around his fingers.

 It was such a quiet sound, Virgil was sure he’d imagined it at first, “Heh…” Roman’s soft laugh, “Looks like someone isn’t-“ he gasped in a deep breath, “-as out of practice as I-“ another agonisingly slow breath, “-thought…” he managed.

 Virgil couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dragon, “Shh, Roman.” He whispered quietly, “Rest.”

 “…’kay…”

 A small smirk pulled on his face as the dragon bared its teeth again, snarling at Virgil, tail lashing violently at the trees around them. Roman had done one _hell_ of a number on the beast.

 He couldn’t help but bare his teeth back, a low growl already forming in his throat, the harsh wind lashing at his hair. The dragon shifted its weight to it’s one good back leg, fluttering its wings that were, functionally, useless.

 “Well, c’mon then!” Virgil snarled at the dragon, hands clenching and relaxing, “What are you waiting for?!”

 Something flashed in the dragon’s eyes, something spiteful and cold and angry, roaring again. Virgil let out a low growl in his throat, catching the moment it tried to launch itself as Virgil.

 As weakened and wounded as it was, it wasn’t nearly as fast as Virgil imagined it should have been. While still airborne, Virgil swung a hand in a large arch in front of himself, leaning further back, and the purple flames shot out and spread. The blazing, bright flames roared, bolts of bright lightning shooting out as the dragon roared in surprise and pain.

 Virgil sprung forward, managing to roll under the dragon just before it’s front legs hit the ground and Virgil spun to face it in a crouch.

 The dragon was clumsier as it turned, limping on it’s back- and foreleg, blinking rapidly and shaking its head to clear its vision, yapping at the air to try and catch stray bolts that weren’t there.

 “This is too easy…” he whispered to himself as the dragon tried to focus its eyes on Virgil, ambling clumsily forward. “Good.”

 The second swing of Virgil’s flames drove it back a few steps with another pained cry, turning into a whine, shaking its head with its eyes closed tightly. Virgil took his chance, rushing forward, and something solid and real formed in his hand as he swung.

 A ripping sound broke the air, the dragon practically _screaming_ as _something_ tore through it’s snout, blood spraying up Virgil’s sleep and over his chest.

 Vision blurred, running on purely on instinct, he pushed hard, more blood spraying and he faintly felt something warm splash onto his cheek. The dragon tore it’s face away, limping to the side, Virgil quickly slipping away from it’s jaw. The same, solid sensation formed in his other hand. And again, running on pure instinct and _alive_ with that _oh-so delicious_ fire in his veins, swung for its neck.

 The same ripping sound, the same barely audible voice of instinct that said _push_ and he pushed. And it was _then_ that he saw what was in his hands.

 Blades. Two long, intricately decorated blades, shining with black and purple. Was this…Roman’s doing? Virgil thought to quickly glance over his shoulder to Roman who…looked asleep. No. Maybe not Roman.

 Instinct screamed at him, _pull!_ And he did, the blood gushing out of the wound and spraying over Virgil, who quickly leapt back a few steps. It soaked into his shirt, sprayed all over his hands and face, the dragon _screeching_ as it swayed and stumbled.

 Maybe Roman hadn’t gotten in deep enough on the other side? Virgil watched carefully, prepared to pounce again, tightly gripping the leather hilts as he waited.

 The dragon fell onto it’s stomach, a few long, drawn out and wheezing breaths escaping it. A wing twitched. It’s nostril’s flared. Virgil didn’t move. He didn’t dare _breathe_.

 Silence seemed to settle over the forest. The sharp wind whistled through the bare branches around Virgil, his breathing sharp and shallow and his blood thundering in his ears.

 Virgil finally lets his arms drop, the blades seeming to disappear into thin air and Virgil raised his hands to look at his palms. He was absolutely _soaked_ in blood. When was the last time _that_ had happened?

 Too long, Virgil decided firmly, turning to study Roman. His eyelids fluttered weakly, the ghost of a smile on his lips, “…nice…” he wheezed, coughing weakly as he tried to give Virgil a thumbs up, “…been a long-“

 As Roman’s chest seized and he coughed harshly, Virgil tried to wipe his hands clean on his jeans, feet carrying him over to Roman. The prince hunched over, hacking up harshly and Virgil gently put his hands on Roman’s cheeks.

 “Stop trying to talk.” Virgil tried to keep his voice stern, “I think you’ve broken a rib or two.”

 Roman’s breathing evened out as far as it would go, still wheezing and wincing between exhales and inhales, “…not going to…make it to…any…village…”

 “Shut _up_ , Roman.” Virgil rubbed his thumb gently over Romans cheekbone tilting his head back against the tree as he pulled his hoodie off Roman’s body. The prince had wrapped an arm around his middle again, protecting his wound and Virgil shifted a little to crouch over Roman’s lap.

 “Sor-“

 “Do I have to kiss you to shut you up?” Virgil playfully teased, trying to gently ease Roman’s arm from his ribs.

 The prince resisted, brows furrowing, “I mean…” he wheezed with a soft huff, an attempt at a laugh, “…I wouldn’t _mind_ one…”

 Virgil rolled his eyes, leaning closer to Roman’s face. The wounded prince could clearly feel Virgil’s breath on his face, “Will you let me _help_ if I do?”

 He made a sound deep in his throat, something Virgil could only call a _grumble_ , “I _guess_ …”

 Virgil’s other hand rose to cup Roman’s cheek, tilting his head back, “Remember to breathe, babe.”

 Roman opened his mouth to ask something, but Virgil pressed his lips to Roman’s and the prince sucked in air through his nose, jerking in surprise. It took a few moments, and then Roman melted, letting Virgil move their lips, keeping the prince distracted as his hands slid down his neck.

 Roman whined softly into the kiss, an arm jerking weakly by his side, clearly wanting to touch Virgil as he sighed against Roman, fingers masterfully unbuckling what few buttons remained on the regalia.

 Virgil broke the kiss for a moment, Roman whining softly before taking a deep breath, and Virgil reconnected, gently pushing Roman’s other arm away and sliding the regalia open.

 His hands were gentle and careful as he slid it over his shoulders, drawing Roman closer as he worked it back and down his arms, easing Roman back against the tree.

 Roman whined, shivering in the cold as Virgil gently eased their lips apart, “Quick breather,” he whispered, leaning back to inspect the damage. Roman’s undershirt was torn and bloodied, revealing not just deep gashes, but nasty, _deep_ bruises.

 It was _bad_. If the Imagination was being as realistic as Virgil _suspected_ , then it was going to take weeks to heal and Roman was going to be…the _worst_ about it.

 But, at least Roman wasn’t _alone_ with this.

 Virgil wasn’t even sure they could actually die. Change? Sure. Virgil had already, hadn’t he? But what would happen to _Roman_ if something like that happened?

 A cold chill ran down Virgil’s spine at the mere thought and he forced himself to push it away. Now was not the time to think about it.

 Roman whimpered, “… _Hurts_ …” his fingers jerked before he managed to curl his hands into a loose fist, “… _Virgil…_ ” a choked sob escaped him and Virgil gently reconnected their lips.

 A silent conversation, _I’m here. I’ve got you. Relax_.

 Roman shuddered, trying to relax, inhaling sharply and trying to breath out slowly. Virgil’s hands gently danced under the hem of Roman’s shirt, keeping the pace of the kiss slow and firm, lifting the undershirt as he did.

 The prince pulled away sharply with a loud whine, “…cold…!” he whimpered, too exhausted and in too much pain to make coherent sentences.

 “Shh, Roman, shh…” the prince whimpered, shoulder jerking as he tried to lift his arm, “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.”

 Despite the clearly broken ribs, tears flooded his eyes and darkened his lashes, “Don’t wanna hurt…hurts…Virgey…”

 “Shhh,” Virgil carefully lowered himself onto Roman’s lap, feeling Roman jerk but relax at the slight pressure, “I know, baby, I know.”

 “Help…please…” he whimpered, choking on a sob, “…Virgey…help me…”

 Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman could even hear him, gasping softly as he kept his head tilted back against the tree behind him. “I’ve got you, Princey, can you hear me?”

 Virgil had seen Roman brought low, but never _physically_ this low. He’d been wounded before, sure, when he was still _Anxiety_ and any attempt made by him would have resulted in Roman snapping…so Virgil hadn’t. But Roman hadn’t been wounded _this_ bad before.

 “Uh-huh…” he whimpered, “Hurts though…”

 “I know,” Virgil gently lowered the shirt again, “I know you can’t walk-“ at the very thought, Roman choked on a sob and whimpered, “-but that means I’m going to have to carry you-“ Roman whined a soft ‘ _no’_ , “-so I need you to be brave for me, can you do that?”

 The prince whimpered again, drawing as deep a breath as he could, “I’ll _try_ …”

 Virgil gently brushed his fingers over Roman’s cheeks, carefully skirting around a gash on his cheekbone, “That’s all I can ask for.” He whispered back, pressing their lips together again and slowly leading Roman through a gentle but firm kiss that told Roman all he needed in a language he was fluent in.

  _I won’t let anything hurt you. You’re not alone. I love you_.

 

* * *

 

 Pulling Roman onto his back had been heart breaking. The prince couldn’t help but whine and sob, pain wracking his entire body as Virgil tried to be as gentle as possible.

 But it had been nearly an hour since Virgil had dressed Roman in his hoodie and hoisted him up, walking toward the only thing that seemed familiar. And _thankfully_ , the prince’s cries and sobs of pain had reduced to merely whimpers and hitched breaths.

 Virgil could see foliage slowly returning to the branches around them, black and grey and _corrupted_ as it was, but it was progress at least. Sure, he felt a little stiff and shaky from the fight, the adrenaline not nearly as bountiful as before, but the act of getting Roman to safety kept it at least _flowing_.

 Once he got Roman somewhere _safe_ , Virgil could also pass out.

 Not an hour later, Roman gasped softly before passing out entirely, either the pain becoming too much or fatigue washing over him at last, and Virgil stumbled a little. He caught his footing under Roman’s sudden deadweight, and shifted him a little, before forcing himself forward.

 He just had to get them somewhere safe.

 What Virgil didn’t expect, was for the sun to start setting just as he was able to see the edge of cloud cover. The clouds seemed to glow their own version of light, up until it faded to actual blue sky, and Virgil _seriously_ considered staying under the cloud cover until the sun rose again.

 But they were at the mercy of the Imagination for now. There was no knowing if that boundary would stay or move again.

 So, he kept pushing, listening for animals or more _dragons_ , while keeping tabs on Roman’s breathing. By the time Virgil saw the first hint of grass, his feet were aching, his back tense and seizing under Roman’s weight, legs shaky from fatigue.

 But rest was waiting for him just beyond that boundary. That was all he _needed_.

 The sun had truly set by the time Virgil finally realised they’d long since stepped out from under the cloud cover. The stars were shining brightly above them through the canopy of the trees, and Virgil inhaled deeply.

 He could move with renewed energy, surging through the forest as quickly as he could until he _finally_ broke through the tree line into a field of some kind.

 Virgil recognised this field. It was the one Roman had taken Virgil to on _that_ day. The day Roman nearly got hurt fighting his first _real_ dragon. The day Virgil changed from _Instinct_ to _Anxiety_.

 His breath caught in his throat, as he remembered sparring playfully with Roman through a rainbow of blooms, the petals dancing around them. Had it really been so long ago? Had so much _really_ happened and changed between them?

 Virgil expected the field to be dead and rotting, the blooms long since extinguished. He expected the new birth of their friendship, and _now_ relationship, was in a new field. Far away from the memory of that day.

 He was surprised to find that he was _wrong_.

 The blooms _had_ clearly died away at some point. They had faded, dying and rotting and _maybe_ it had been empty for those _long_ , _horrible_ , years that Roman and Virgil had been at odds.

 But there was clearly new life here. Roman’s blooms, the scattered red and white lilies in full-bloom, filled the dark night with a soft glow as they absorbed starlight and moonlight. And between those red and white blooms, unopened lilies, some black and some purple, glowing slightly, some offering that _maybe_ they were blooming.

 Roman grunted softly, hand curling tightly into Roman’s shirt over his chest, “Virge…?”

 “Yeah, sweetheart.” He murmured back, feeling Roman relax again.

 “You’re still here…” his voice cracked and Virgil’s heart twisted. _God_ , he wanted to just _comfort_ him. But now was not the time. Roman was _wounded_ and he had to get him somewhere safe so he could _deal_ with that properly.

 “I’m not going anywhere.”

 Before his eyes, some of the blooms shifted, lifting their flowers and the petals unfurling a little and it sank in for Virgil then.

 The field didn’t represent _Virgil’s_ and Roman’s feelings…the blooms represented how Roman _thought_ Virgil felt. Virgil was pretty sure his heart _broke_ , as he realised how hesitant Roman was to believe Virgil loved him.

 Well, Virgil was _clearly_ doing something right. And obviously it had taken a long time for the lilies to even _get_ this far.

 “Thank you…” Roman kept his hand curled as tight as he could in Virgil’s shirt, even as his other muscles relaxed, “For coming when…I was…” Virgil slowly walked through the lilies, purple and black ones shifting and unfurling just a little further, kicking up various coloured petals as he walked slowly, “…I was…scared…”

 Virgil sighed softly, “I always will.” Virgil whispered back, more of the lilies unfurling a little, “ _Always_.”

 “…hurts, Virge…”

 “I’ve got you.” Virgil answered softly, shifting the prince slightly, “Let me look after you.”

 There was a moment as Roman clearly fought with himself. Virgil was getting pretty used to those minor inner wars Roman often had. It wasn’t normal for them to be about _physical_ wounds…but his emotional ones? His dips and spirals? Virgil was used to those.

 “Okay…” Roman whimpered quietly, relaxing as much as he could but his hand still clinging to Virgil’s shirt, “I trust you…” he answered in a tiny whine, “Virge…I-“

 His words were cut off with a choked sob, as though he couldn’t say the words he so _desperately_ wanted to say. Like he was afraid Virgil would rebuff him.

 “Roman?”

 He sniffled, “Yeah?”

 “It’s an understood thing.”

 A surprised huff of laughter escaped the prince, his tone wobbling, “ _That_ again?”

 Virgil chuckled as more and more of the darker lilies unfurled further and further, “Well, I mean…” Virgil could feel the faint smile against his neck, “I love you, Roman.” Something seemed to sing in the air as some of the lilies bloomed fully, “Gotta make you laugh sometimes.”

 “Virgil…” Roman’s voice was thick and strained, “You don’t…I mean…”

 “It’s okay, Ro.” Virgil kept his voice low and quiet, “Rest for now, okay?”

 

* * *

**_Logan_ **

 

 Logan had to admit. It wasn’t truly like him to worry. Roman often disappeared into his room, into the Imagination for long bouts of time. Virgil was the only Side who could enter Roman’s room, whether the other Side liked it or not, and that was somewhat… _frustrating._

 At least…it was _now_ that it presented a _dilemma_.

 It had only been a day, Logan reminded himself, standing outside Roman’s door in his pyjamas and staring up at the golden crown painted on the red and white wood. It had only been a _whole day_ since Virgil suddenly stiffened and bolted into Roman’s room.

 Like Roman’s very _existence_ depended on it.

 Logan had only seen the sun set, rise and set again. It had only been a _day_. And yet…that small worm of worry wouldn’t leave him alone.

 He had tried everything. Distraction, rationalisation, meditation…nothing seemed to settle it. It was as though _something_ was wrong. Something was amiss, but Logan lacked the data to come to an accurate conclusion.

 And that bothered him to no end.

 That wasn’t even mentioning the _emotional_ aspect of it all.

 Two of the other Sides were on the other side of a door _he couldn’t open._ They were no doubt behind _another_ door he wouldn’t be able to access, even if he wanted to. Sure, Logan had to bypass a particularly _annoying_ failsafe…but it only activated when Roman was actually _in the room._

 Which he wasn’t. He was technically in the subconscious, the Imagination, a place Logan had only been a few times. It had always looked skewed to him, and no amount of adjusting his glasses had managed to fix it. Shapes shifted, lines blurred, colours blended at random, always moving and changing…and it made Logan feel _ill_.

 It was rare for it to make sense…and that was when Roman was working _with_ him for something. When Roman wanted to show him something…well, Logan couldn’t venture in very far at all.

 And yet, he _wanted_ to. He wanted to break down the door and storm the Imagination, nausea be damned, to find Roman. To find Virgil.

 It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Logan already missed Virgil. They’d been… _involved_ for so long already that it had been…strange to be apart from him for so long. A whole day felt wrong. And small insecurities had already started niggling in his mind. Stupid, irrational thoughts of jealousy and self-loathing that even Virgil would roll his eyes at.

 And of course, Logan’s feelings for Roman had already deepened so much that he felt like he had already lost something. Like Logan had missed his opportunity or somehow, some _way_ , this was his fault. Somehow, Roman going to the Imagination was his doing.

 It was stupid and irrational and… _ugh_ , illogical, but he couldn’t help but feel that way.

 “Hey.”

 Patton’s soft voice interrupted Logan from his early morning reverie, a hand falling onto Logan’s shoulder, “Patton. I hadn’t meant to wake you.”

 The shorter Side gave him a small and tired smile, “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, blinking blearily up at Logan.

 “No I-“ his voice wavered and he drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes, “Yes.” He whispered, opening his eyes and turning to look back up at the door.

 “You’re worried too?”

 Logan huffed softly, a shaky smile pulling at his lips, “Yes.” His voice shook again, a hand reaching out to brush over that familiar scar, “I am also at a loss of what to do.”

 Patton’s other hand gently covered Logan’s, warmth and solid and real…now Logan understood why Virgil sometimes accepted touch when he was spiralling. Why Roman actively _sought_ it out.

 “I understand.” Patton murmured softly, “But we need rest, remember?”

 Logan sighed hard, “I am aware, Patton.” He let his eyes close, “I just can’t help but wonder…what’s happening to them?”

 Patton pressed his hand down more firmly against the back of Logan’s hand, “I know this is painful to hear but all we can do, Lo? Is try and keep Thomas going.”

 “Are Roman and Virgil even still influencing him?”

 Patton smirked as he gently worked his fingers under Logan’s hand, “We can find that out tomorrow.” He answered gently, “We can ask.”

 The answer soothed something in Logan. Maybe Thomas would notice that something was different, would notice that there was some kind of _answer._

 “Yes, that sounds…adequate.” He let Patton gently pull his hand off the door, “Thank you.”

 Patton smiled gently, “Logan?”

 Logan finally turned to meet Patton’s eyes again, met with nothing with empathy and worry of his own. Those bright and gentle eyes were always so full of emotion that Logan couldn’t always identify it…but it was so soothing to see it now.

 “Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?” Patton asked, hesitantly tangling his fingers with Logan’s.

 Logan blinked a few times, feeling tears sting at the corners of his eyes and he had to draw in a breath that didn’t quite reach the bottom of his lungs. His lip was quivering, fighting the frown that tried to pull onto his face and his lungs _refused_ to let more air in even as they fought for _something_.

 Patton gave him a small smile, “C’mon.” he gently pulled at Logan’s hand, “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?”

 Logan nodded slowly, letting Patton lead him to his room and close the door behind him. The room did little to ease Logan’s own worry, but he could feel Patton’s simmering under the surface, and that was somewhat comforting.

 That he wasn’t alone in his worry.


	8. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil finally gets Roman somewhere familiar to start healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this is a shorter chapter, but work has been kicking my ass the last few days XD I hope the next one I release will be longer!
> 
> Warnings: Blood, Injury Description

** Chapter 07  
Safety **

****

_Virgil_

 If there was one thing Virgil had always liked about the Imagination, it was that so long as he had a destination in mind, it didn’t matter which direction he chose to walk in. He’d get there eventually.

 Honestly, it had taken a _lot_ longer than usual for Virgil to actually get there, but the moment he’d seen the small, familiar cottage, he’d felt nothing but relief.

 Virgil’s home back when he didn’t _have_ one.

 It was just as he remembered it. Dark furniture, dark wood floors, soft cream walls covered in photos. He couldn’t quite remember where he’d drawn inspiration for this one, but he knew it wasn’t his _usual_ style.

 After a few hours in the cottage, Virgil already felt more at ease, sighing as he carried a bowl of hot water into a bedroom off the stairs. Roman was still asleep, laying on one of the spare beds Virgil had conjured so long ago, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

 He barely made a sound as he lowered the bowl to the small table by the bed, sitting in a stool beside the bed. For someone who had nearly died to a _dragon_ , Roman still managed to look fairly peaceful as he slept.

 And Virgil had to admit, Roman was sleeping _hard_. Who knew how long he had been fighting and running from that dragon before he’d called to Virgil?

 Carefully, Virgil brushed his fingers over Roman’s forehead and swept hair from the prince’s eyes. His wounds were starting to swell and Virgil felt an uncomfortable shift in his chest.

 How long was it going to take for him to heal? Roman hated being bed-ridden when he had a _cold_ , how was he going to handle being _literally_ trapped by his body?

 Virgil tried not to think about it too long, gently turning Roman’s’ head and brushing his thumb carefully over the gash on Roman’s cheekbone. It had scabbed nastily, and Virgil was going to have hell trying to clean it.

 The prince stirred slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he slowly drifted from his sleep and Virgil kept his hand on Roman’s cheek as the other dropped a cloth into the water.

 “Virgil?” Roman murmured quietly, his voice low and hesitant.

 “Hey.” He whispered back, feeling Roman relax under his hand, “You should go back to sleep.”

 “Where-“ he winced, trying to wet his lips, “-are we?”

 Virgil gently traced his fingertips down Roman’s face to his throat, feeling the prince’s pulse under his fingers as he moved his other hand to the hot water, “My place.”

 Roman grumbled softly, hissing in a breath, “Your place?”

 “Mm-hm.” Virgil reached for the cloth, ignoring the sting of the hot water. The cloth draining sounded so loud in the quiet of the cottage, “Just rest, Roman.”

 “No, I-“ Roman tried to open his eyes, managing nothing more than to flutter them, “I should-“

 “Rest.” Virgil answered for him, pressing the warm cloth gently to Roman’s cheekbone. The prince winced, jerking with surprise, “I’ve got you.”

 “Wanna get back…” Roman whispered, relaxing a little as Virgil gently pressed the cloth over the gash, “Wanna go home…”

 Virgil felt his heart ache, not just because Roman sounded so sad and scared…but because he did too. At the very least, he wanted to tell Logan and Patton what was _happening_. But for now, they had no means to communicate with them. He wanted to walk back into the commons, ask them for help, work as a team to help Roman.

 But he was on his own. But Virgil could handle that.

 “I do too…” Virgil admitted gently, feeling something sift and relax in Roman.

 “Virge?” he murmured as Virgil cleaned around the wound, wiping as much dirt and grime away as he could.

 “Yeah, babe?”

 Roman sighed, “Thank you…” his voice wavered slightly, hand twitching for contact and Virgil shifted a little closer. Swapping hands, Virgil gently held Roman’s hand in his as he continued to clean the prince’s cheek.

 “For what, Ro?”

 Roman’s fingers twitched around Virgil’s, an attempt to tighten his grip. Virgil couldn’t help but smile as the prince was clearly slipping back into sleep.

 “For coming…” he muttered, face already relaxing, “…to help…me…”

 Virgil tightened his hold on Roman’s hand for a moment, “I always have.” He murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the tip of Roman’s nose, “And always will.”

 A small, happy smile pulled onto Roman’s face, “Still…” Roman whispered, “Thank you.”

 Virgil huffed and shook his head as he cleaned his way up to Roman’s temple, “Well, I suppose, you’re welcome.”

 The small smile widened a little, “Ha.” He breathed victoriously and Virgil gently squeezed Roman’s hand again.

 “Rest now, Princey.” Virgil murmured.

 It didn’t take Roman long to fall asleep again. Virgil sighed as he continued cleaning and before long he was able to see that beside the gash on his cheek and a small scrape over Roman’s eyebrow, there wasn’t too much damage to Roman’s face. Well, beside the expected bruising and swelling over one of his eyes.

 Roman slept so deeply and for so long, Virgil had managed to clean down Roman’s neck and had to change the water before the prince woke up again.

 “Virgil?” his voice broke, eyelids fluttering, “Is that you?”

 “Yeah, Ro, it’s me.”

 Roman relaxed again, sighing softly and swallowing hard. Virgil moved slowly through the room, putting the bowl of fresh water down beside the bed but there was still something tense about Roman.

 “I’m sorry.” Roman muttered quietly, face turned to the ceiling even as Virgil sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over Roman’s hands.

 “For what?” he asked softly, a hand gently running down Roman’s chest and feeling the prince shiver from the touch.

 “Dragging you into this.” His voice wavered, cracking away at the end, tears dampening Roman’s lashes, “I know I wanted your help but now I just-“

 “Hey, no, shh.” Virgil took Roman’s hand in his again, “I would rather be here now, then find out about this later.” He answered, “It’s okay.”

 “I’m so sorry.”

 Virgil shifted closer, pressing his hip against Roman’s and gently pulling Roman’s hand into his lap, “Roman?”

 “Yeah?” tears were standing in his lashes, ready to break free.

 “I would have come after you eventually.” He reminded Roman gently, “Not just because Thomas would be lost without you.”

 The prince’s frown deepened, “Then why?”

 Virgil slowly raised Roman’s hand to his face, his breath fanning over Roman’s knuckles before he pressed a kiss to Roman’s hand, “Because I _like_ having you around. Same with Logan and Patton.” Roman’s lips twisted and Virgil’s heart twisted with it.


	9. Some Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman relies on Virgil, and a secret between them is revealed, something neither had intended on speaking about.  
>  Only gone two days, Logan misses Virgil terribly and it only grows worse when something is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For old times sake:  
> I'm sorry XD
> 
> Warnings: Injury, Extreme Thirst, Loneliness, Missing a Significant Other

** 08 **

 

_Roman_

 

 If there was one thing Roman was _still_ always surprised about, it was just how _gentle_ Virgil could be. Every touch was delicate, like a feather over his skin, taking more time than necessary perhaps to clean the wounds and grime away, but Roman really did appreciate it.

 “I know you’re awake, Princey.” Virgil’s low, gentle voice interrupted Roman’s thoughts. Roman wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer, “Something on your mind?”

 For the umpteenth time in who knew how long, Roman tried to open his eyes, managing this time to crack them open. The world was a blur of colours and _far_ too bright, but there was a mass of purple and black beside him.

  _Virgil._

“Hey there.” Virgil murmured softly, delicate, warm fingers tracing over Roman’s cheek, “Wanna talk?”

 He tried to open his mouth, dry lips cracking and he winced, swallowing hard and feeling the coarseness inside, like sandpaper in his throat.

 “Thirsty…” he whimpered, dry tongue trying to wet chapped lips.

 “I’m sorry,” Virgil whispered, the blur of black and purple shifting to stand. Roman couldn’t focus his eyes on the other Side, “I’ll go get some water.” Panic flooded Roman’s system.

 He didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t be alone. Before he could voice the thoughts in his mind, Virgil was gone, the room a blur of rich browns and cream.

 He was alone. Virgil was downstairs, wasn’t he? Were there stairs? Roman was pretty sure he’d heard…

 It seemed like he blinked and Virgil was back, lowering himself quietly into a stool by the bed. Still nothing more than a blur of colour, he moved slowly, “You’re exhausted, Roman.”

 A pitiful, dry laugh escaped him, “Hurts.”

 Something scraped along the floor and Virgil shifted closer, “I’m sorry.” Virgil murmured, something solid slid under Roman’s neck, “Bear with me, okay?” The soft scent of Virgil drifted into Roman’s nose, lavender and mint, easing the fear fluttering in Roman’s chest, “Alright, up we go.” The world shifted, spinning dangerously, but the solid and secure weight never left his neck. “I’m right here.” He wanted to reach out, to touch Virgil again, for the warmth under his fingers. Along his side, Virgil’s body pressed against him supporting Roman, “I have the water here, ready?”

 Roman nodded a little, unable to decipher colours or shapes, feeling something cold against his lips and flinching from the sudden sensation. Cool water slipped between his lips, fleeting and _hardly enough_ , but it had never felt so _goddamned good_.

 Involuntarily Roman moaned softly, wishing, _wanting, **begging**_ , for more.

 “There’s plenty here, sweetheart.” Virgil murmured into Roman’s filthy hair, “No rush.”

 More of those fleeting, cool rushes of water slipped over his tongue and down his throat, washing away some of sandpaper, soothing the crackling in his mouth.

 The cool sensation pulled back from his lips, “Take a few breaths, Roman.” Virgil murmured, and the prince realised he was panting, desperate for _more fucking water, Virgil,_ “I haven’t checked your ribs yet.”

 Wetting his lips was easier, easing the cracking of his mouth, relaxing against Virgil.

 “Think you can handle some more?”

 “ _Yes_ , please.”

 A soft chuckle, and that cool sensation returned to his lip and Roman sighed as slowly, Virgil gently eased more water into his mouth. Roman wasn’t sure how much he ended up drinking, but it felt like a lifetime between each blissed sip of water, feeling the sandpaper washing away, that horrid sand in his mouth disappearing.

 “That’s enough for now, sweetheart.” Virgil whispered, the cool sensation shifting away, “How are you feeling now?”

 Roman realised at some point, his eyes had slipped closed and honestly, they were easier to open now. Colours were blurred together, but slowly focussed into vague shapes.

 A small smile pulled on Virgil’s face, “That’s a little better, huh?”

 Roman sighed, searching and studying Virgil’s face, “Yeah…” he breathed softly.

 Had Virgil always been so pretty? Those sharp lines seemed so much softer this close up and had Virgil’s eyes started changing colour? The way he was smiling was so gentle and worried, “What is it?” he asked gently, eyes searching Roman’s face.

 “Pretty…” Roman managed, eyelids starting to feel heavy and his body even heavier. Virgil’s worried smile turned bright, eyes sparkling as a soft blush suddenly spread over his cheeks and he scoffed softly.

 “Did you hit your head?” Virgil asked softly, ducking his head slightly and shaking his head.

 “No…” Roman answered tiredly, “You’re…pretty…Virge…” he felt Virgil’s fingers gently pulling up the torn undershirt, the cool air brushing over his aching body, “Ah-“

 “I know, I’m sorry,” Virgil murmured, trying to gently pry bloodied fabric from around Roman’s wounds, “Bear with me, okay?”

 Roman rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder, jerking and flinching as Virgil slowly worked the fabric up. Roman found himself pressing his forehead to Virgil’s neck, tears pricking into his eyes as a particular piece of his shirt remained stuck to Roman’s chest.

 “Okay, hey, let me try and pull this over your back instead.” Roman nodded, feeling the cool air spread over his back. Virgil sighed, “Not as many wounds here-“ his voice suddenly cut off as he got the shirt up and Roman suddenly remembered.

 He was in the Imagination. The Imagination that was out of his control. The control he needed to affect the entire Imagination. Including _him._

 “Roman…” Virgil breathed, fingers delicate as they brushed over his back, tracing over old scars. “I didn’t…” his voice broke a little, as Roman tensed under his touch.

 “Don’t…” he whispered, shoulders rising a little and Virgil’s fingers fell away, “Please…”

 “I knew you had them.” Virgil spoke softly as he pulled the shirt the rest of the way over Roman’s head, “I just didn’t think they’d be…”

 Roman could feel himself being lowered back to the bed, the mattress cold against his back, “How’d you…know?”

 Virgil let the shirt sit on Roman’s chest, too embedded in a wound to be removed straight away, “I felt them. When you had that spiral…when you admitted how you felt about us.”

 “Oh…you did?”

 “I think Logan might have too.” He whispered, and Roman could hear water draining nearby, “Roman, sweetie, can we talk about this when you’re feeling better?” the water was cooler now and he flinched, hissing softly as it pressed onto his collarbone, “Please?”

 Roman could _try_ to avoid it forever…but this was _Virgil_. Virgil wasn’t going to let it slide forever. He was going to find a time, find a way, to bring it back up. And then he _would_ have to talk about it.

 Roman let his eyes close, nodding slightly as he sighed, “I guess…” he whispered, “It’s not like a big deal…” he lied, voice wavering a little.

 The cool cloth was pulled away and Virgil moved, warm hands gently cupping Roman’s cheeks, “Look at me, Roman.” His voice was soft and caring, and Roman’s eyes opened on their own, “I don’t believe you.” He answered honestly, tilting Roman’s chin up a little, “They’re a bigger deal than you’ll admit and they hurt you more than you’re gonna say.” Roman could feel tears burning into his eyes, unable to look away from Virgil’s eyes, “But it’s okay.” The softness of Virgil’s eyes and words were starting to break what little resolve Roman had, “We can always talk about it when you’re ready.”

 He wanted to say something, his lips trembling as he stared up at Virgil, helpless. What was he supposed to say? Why wasn’t Virgil _angry_? He had always endeavoured to protect them and here Roman was, with evidence that he hadn’t allowed Virgil to do so. Why wasn’t he angry?

 Virgil pressed his forehead to Roman’s, eyes taking up all of Roman’s vision, “Breathe, sweetheart.” Virgil’s warm voice filling Roman’s blank mind and he breathed in as far as he could, “There we go, it’s okay.”

 Roman’s eyes closed, and he sighed softly, “Sorry…”

 Virgil scoffed and his warm lips pressing against Roman’s, slow and deliberate, yet gentle. Words shared without their voices, gentle reassurance and warm love. Virgil speaking Roman’s language to explain, using Roman’s natural understanding of the world to say what he needed to hear.

  _In your own time. I understand. I don’t see you any differently._

 The tears hiding in Roman’s lashes broke free, sliding down the side of his face, and all he could do was press back. Hoping Virgil understood what Roman was trying to say, trying to answer.

  _Thank you. Thank you. Thank you._

 

*

_Logan_

 

 The morning seemed to come too soon, his mind pushing away the fog with a sharp thought that made his heart ache and tears fill his eyes.

  _Virgil isn’t here_.

 Warmth was spread along his back, a warm arm wrapped around his waist, but it wasn’t _Virgil._

 “Hey.” Patton’s voice was warm, far more alert than it should have been given the time of morning, “Can you breathe, Logan?”

 With a shaky breath, Logan nodded, “Yeah…” he answered softly, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, “Sorry if I woke you.”

 Patton shook his head, hair tickling the side and back of Logan’s neck, “Not at all.” Patton murmured softly, “I always get up this early.”

 “Right.” Logan murmured, “Right.” He sighed.

 Patton’s arm moved, his hand resting gently on Logan’s side as he got up onto his elbow, the warmth and pressure shifting, “Hey, Logan?”

 Logan sniffed, “Yeah.”

 Patton pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek, “I know you miss him.” He said softly, his voice so warm and loving Logan couldn’t ignore the strange, gnawing guilt at his chest, “And I understand.” Logan sighed, turning onto his back and pulling his hands away. Patton tried to meet his eyes, but Logan couldn’t make out Patton’s face at this distance.

 “I’m sorry.” Logan sucked in a breath, focussing up on the ceiling for a moment, “It shouldn’t hurt me so, but-“

 Patton’s warm hand gently cupped Logan’s cheek, “Logan.” His voice was serious now, never losing its warmth. Logan shifted his eyes to the blurry form that was Patton, “I know I don’t replace him. That’s not what I’m saying.”

 Logan shook his head, closing his eyes and taking a breath, “I…appreciate you saying that, but-“

 “And I know I don’t…do or…feel things the way you and Virgil do.” Logan swallowed hard, remembering that particular conversation, “But I hope I can at least ease some of the loneliness.”

 Logan smirked, “You do.” He admitted softly, “I cannot imagine how much harder this would be-“ his voice cracked, tears filling his eyes and Patton gently brushed his thumb over Logan’s cheek, “I’m sorry…”

 “No need.” Patton pressed a soft kiss to Logan’s forehead, “Now, what are our plans for today?”

 Logan took a deep breath, blinking away his tears as he did his best to recall the schedule for today. It didn’t take him long, finding purpose in the allotted times and tasks, the deep, dull pain in his chest starting to ease.

 Patton reached for his glasses, gently easing them onto Logan’s face, “So I’ll start on breakfast, and you have a shower, hm?”

 Logan took in a deep breath, “Routine.” He muttered in a whisper with a nod. Routine meant security and that meant calm and that…that was what Logan needed right now.

 Patton nodded, his eyes bright with pride and joy, “That’s it.” He whispered and slipped out of bed, hand offered to Logan with a grin, “Let’s find some answers today.”

 

*

_Logan_

 

 The day had been going rather smoothly, if Logan were to say so. Patton cooked breakfast as he usually did. Neither of them spoke of the two empty seats at the table, missing plates or cutlery or glasses.

 Logan had showered, gotten dressed and re-evaluated the schedule. He didn’t talk about the fact it took longer than usual, speaking to an empty room, waiting for a response that wouldn’t come.

 Patton cleaned up the kitchen, putting dishes away and neither of them spoke of the quiet that had settled over the mindscape.

 By the time Logan had finished with the schedule, glancing once more at the first item on the list, Patton had climbed the stairs and was waiting at his bedroom door.

 “Hey.”

 “Patton! Apologies, I hadn’t meant to-“

 He shook his head, poorly hidden sadness in his eyes as he approached the logical side, “No need to apologise, Logan.” Logan tried to smile, but it felt weak and strained, “Ready to talk to Thomas?”

 Logan nodded, taking a deep breath. It never got any easier to physically manifest, he mused to himself and wondered how Patton was able to handle it so well. He was able to spend _hours_ out in the world with Thomas, hiding from view, even if he was entirely exhausted afterward.

 If Logan recalled correctly, Roman had a hard time out in the real world too. Not that he enjoyed it either. Roman was a creator, thriving in the mindscape, creating things with a thought or the wave of his hand. It was rare for the royal to want to put any actual _effort_ into something. So, the real world was… _difficult_.

 Roman had also complained that it looked ‘wrong’. Potentially the way Logan saw the Imagination, he thought now in hindsight.

 Logan on the other hand found the physical world to be fascinating, beautiful, enchanting even. And he enjoyed being there, truly, he did. But it was the _manifesting_ that was hard. Once he was there…well, that was a different story.

 He tried not to think about how Virgil handled the physical world.

 He could already feel the tips of his fingers changing, tingling and burning at the same time, and now that he could feel it…

 Logan breathed out, letting the sensation rush over him and when he opened his eyes, Thomas was blinking up at him from the couch.

 “Logan?”

 Patton appeared a moment later, rising up from his usual spot by the blinds, giggling.

 “Patton?”

 “Hey, Thomas!” Patton beamed, bouncing over to the host who was moving his laptop from his lap. Logan adjusted his glasses, feeling the familiar rush of joy from reality. He couldn’t help but brush his fingers over a chair as he walked past.

 It always felt so…surreal, oddly enough. Solid in a way that Logan wasn’t entirely familiar with. All the same, he thoroughly enjoyed it.

 “Hey…Pat…?” Thomas glanced from the eager side to Logan, who had wandered over to the television, Roman’s usual spot and was running his fingers over the top. Thomas smirked, familiar with Logan’s behaviour by now, “What brings you both here?”

 Patton glanced to Logan, who froze in Roman’s spot. He straightened, feeling that dull ache in his chest and tried to take in deep breath.

 Thomas noticed the way it trembled, hand pressing to his own chest and frowning. He clearly didn’t feel anxious.

 “Guys? What is it?”

 Logan turned to Thomas, Patton’s eyes still searching Logan’s face. Asking the only way Patton knew how with Logan. _Can you handle this?_

 “Thomas, I’m afraid I have to ask some…” Logan’s eyes flicked to Patton, who nodded encouragingly, “… _strange_ questions.”

 Thomas leant back against the couch, “Alright, bud.” He smiled as warmly as he could, despite the unease he felt. Logan only noticed because Patton shifted awkwardly beside the host.

 “Thomas, how is your anxiety?”

 The hosts eyes darkened, “Shouldn’t you be asking Virgil?” he asked accusingly, glancing to Patton. Logan felt a spike drive through his chest, all the air rushing from his lungs as Patton flinched, and Thomas’ eyes widened, “Whoa, guys, what-“

 “We can’t.” Logan managed weakly, “Please, answer the question.”

 “Fine.” Thomas answered earnestly, “I’m not anymore anxious than usual, I mean.” He glanced from Logan to Patton.

 “And you’re not behaving carelessly.” Logan added aloud, a mental note that Patton nodded in agreement to. That _was_ a good sign.

 “No…” Thomas answered slowly, “Please don’t throw a laptop at me to test it.” Grimacing as he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

 Patton barely muffled his snicker and Logan felt a smirk twist at his lips, “Apologies.”

 Thomas laughed warmly, “I understand.”

 Logan cleared his throat, “And what about…” he took a deep breath, “What about your creativity? Are ideas… _harder_ to come by?”

 Thomas blinked at him, his brown eyes wide and confused, “Guys, no.” he sighed, “Actually, they’ve been…well, everywhere.” Patton frowned, glancing to Logan, who didn’t take his eyes off Thomas, “They’ve been coming to me so fast and often, and I’ve been daydreaming a _lot_.”

 “No creative block then-“

 “No, but it’s _too_ much.” Thomas answered, “I know Roman went through that slump-“ Patton flinched, “But I didn’t think he’d feel so good so soon-“

 Logan’s stomach flipped and Patton reached out to take Thomas’ hands in his. Thomas’ words stopped, his eyes turning to Patton’s and Logan had a moment to try and catch his breath.

 “What’s going on, guys?” He asked, a slight panic already rising in his voice, “Talk to-“

 Thomas’ voice suddenly faded as a familiar, encompassing rush of anxiety washed over all of them, sending the room completely quiet.

 How had Logan not thought of that before?! Of course, whatever was happening, wherever they were, maybe Virgil could get to the physical world? Maybe Logan could reach him-

 A rush of cold suddenly blew over Logan’s shoulder, and he turned, eyes widening as a blur of black and purple tumbled to his knees beside Logan.

 “Virgil?!” Logan fell to his own knees as Virgil slowly lifted his head, looking exhausted and weak, arms shaking as he held himself up.

 “ _Babe_.” Virgil murmured, smiling softly up at Logan. His eyes seemed unfocused, unable to catch Logan’s eyes as his breathing got ragged, “Can’t…” he grunted with a flinch, “God, it’s strong…”

 “Virgil, what’s happening?” Patton asked, shooting to his feet as Thomas sat frozen on the couch, looking between the three sides in his living room.

 “Imagination.” He managed between grit teeth, grunting as whatever force was pulling at him got stronger, “Ro and I…can’t get out…” he continued, looking up at Logan’s face, eyes so soft and loving and… _scared_.

 “You’re trapped in there?” Logan asked, reaching out and cupping Virgil’s face, feeling the ice cold of Virgil’s face. How much energy was it taking for Virgil to be there?

 He nodded into Logan’s hands, eyes wide as he stared up at Logan, like he was committing the other Side’s face to memory, “I’m sorry. Ro got hurt.” He flinched as Thomas squeaked, Patton’s hands flying to his heart, “Might be a long while until-“ a wave of pain rushed over Virgil, his body trying to curl in on itself as he groaned between grit teeth. When it passed, he was panting, sweat dripping onto Logan’s hands. Virgil turned to him, gripping Logan’s shirt tightly in his hands, “-until Ro gets better.”

 “How long?” Patton asked, nervously moving from foot to foot as Virgil tried to move closer to Logan. His heart ached and soared, moving as close to him as he could and wrapping his arms as tightly around Virgil as he could.

 “I don’t know…” his voice was getting wheezy, and Logan felt Virgil rest his face against Logan’s chest, “He got hurt bad…dragon…nearly killed him…”

 Patton’s whimper was tiny but all Logan could do was cling more tightly to Virgil, hoping and wishing…somehow, for him to stay.

 Virgil lifted his head, meeting Logan’s eyes the best he could, “Baby…” Logan wanted to talk, wanted to express how much he’d missed him, “I can’t imagine-“ he flinched from pain and Logan could have _sworn_ he’d whimpered in response, “I’m sorry, I don’t have long.” He wrapped his strong arms tightly around Logan’s waist, “Just know that I love you.” He was speaking as quickly as he could, shaking violently in Logan’s arms, “I love you so much. We’ll come back. As soon as we can.”

 “Virgil-“ Logan hiccuped and he realised, only now, that he was crying. How long had he been crying?

 Virgil let go of Logan’s waist, hands cupping Logan’s face, ice-cold against his skin and then somehow so warm it almost hurt.

 “I love you.” He whispered softly, pulling Logan in for a kiss so warm and soft and familiar that Logan _swore_ his heart broke. It felt like home. He already missed Virgil’s arms around his waist. When Virgil pulled away, his eyes were a little clearer, “We love you, both of you.” Virgil said as clearly as he could, “And we’ll be back.”

 “Time works differently there, Virgil.” Logan thought to say, hands wrapping around Virgil’s wrists, _please stay_.

 “I know.” He answered, “We’ll come back.” He added with a nod, Virgil suddenly shuddered, eyes squeezing closed as he groaned and curled in on himself a little.

 Patton’s hand slipped into Virgil’s hair, “I’ve got him, kiddo.” He said softly, reassuringly, “Go take care of Roman.”

 When the pain eased, Virgil took a few deep breaths and lifted his head, eyes meeting Logan’s, “We’ll come back. I love you.” Desperate, scared, Virgil pressed another kiss to Logan’s mouth, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. It seemed to last forever, filled with need and desperation, “I’m sorry.”

 Logan caught him when his arms weakened, “I love you too.” He managed hoarsely.

 “Pat?”

 “Yeah, kiddo?”

 “Love you too.”

 Patton laughed, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s hair, “I love you too.”

 “I’m sorry.”

Just as he usually appeared, Virgil was gone. The air in the room was suddenly quiet and lighter, like a hum had started growing louder and louder until it disappeared with Virgil. Patton and Thomas gasped in a breath, Logan sagging forward to stare at his now empty hands.

 Virgil’s warmth lingered in all the places he had touched, and that’s all Logan could think about. Except those words that Virgil had wanted Logan to remember.

  _We’ll be back. I love you_.

 And even though Logan clung to them…it hurt _so bad_. He couldn’t help it. He keened, arms wrapping tightly around his chest where Virgil had held him, curling over his own lap.

 He wanted to disappear, to make the pain end. He wanted things to go back to the way they were. Sitting in the mindscape, consolidating notes, enjoying the quiet and peace. Knowing that night, he might wake to Virgil in his bed, having joined him after a nightmare. Or sitting in a chair, reading a book to avoid an attack.

 He didn’t like not knowing when that would be his reality again.


	10. Soft Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In their respective places, the boys have some serious talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it's my second time updating today, but I couldn't think of anything for Chemically Imbalanced, so here it is! Another chapter for ANYCWF. :)
> 
> No warnings for this one, I think XD

** 09 **

_Patton_

 

 The mindscape was unusually quiet for the next few days. It made the air feel heavy and cold, an unusual quiet that had settled over the remaining two Sides. Logan acted as he always had, working or reading quietly, though the strain of being away from his long-time boyfriend was starting to show.

 Patton could feel it too. His shoulders were unusually tight, he wasn’t sleeping very well, and it was hard to work through the day.

 All the same, the routine helped. Patton was able to focus on making breakfast every morning, an affair that had admittedly gotten quiet and simple. From pancakes or waffles or an entire spread of breakfast food, to toast or cereal.

 The noise was no longer there. Roman’s half-awake grunting fading into small, barely coherent sentences. Logan’s calm explanation of the schedule, repeated as many times as needed. Virgil’s irritated groaning, peppered with groggy banter to Roman and soft suggestions to Logan.

 By the time breakfast was done, Roman would be awake, singing loudly or trumpeting his adoration to _someone_ or _something_. Logan would be pleased with the schedule, tucking it away to simply enjoy the rest of breakfast with his family. Virgil would be somewhat awake, appreciating the noise keeping attention from what little rest he likely got.

 And Patton would join in, chattering excitedly about something as the family dug in, Logan and Virgil sharing looks as often as Virgil shared them with Roman. Patton would soak up their company, enjoying the noise, loving them in his own way.

 Now, it was quiet and heavy.

 Just as Patton finishes with coffee, he hears movement on the stairs, pausing to greet the logical Side. He’s hardly dressed, hair completely mussed and glasses crooked on his nose as he stumbles down the stairs. His sleepwear hasn’t changed much since Roman and Virgil were trapped in the Imagination. An oversized shirt of Virgil’s, most obvious from the purple and black pattern that adorned it, and a pair of simple, loose grey slacks.

 “Morning, Logan.” Patton greets more quietly than usual, finishing up with Logan’s coffee. He would need two before he was ready to interact properly with Patton, but a greeting with the first one wasn’t a bad way to start.

 Logan hummed to Patton, taking the coffee mug and sipping, pausing as Patton slipped toward the sink. There was silence between them, broken only by Logan’s periodic sips, and Patton shifting cutlery around.

 “Thank you.” Logan’s low voice broke the silence between them and Patton turned to him quickly in surprise. It wasn’t like Logan to want to talk before his second mug.

 “What for?”

 Logan had his eyes cast down at his half-empty mug of coffee, a fingernail running along the rim. After a moment of thought, he lifted his eyes to meet Patton’s.

 “For attempting to maintain stability.” He answered simply, sipping at his coffee again, averting Patton’s gaze before he lowered it, “I know I haven’t been… _easy_ to deal with the last few days-“

 Patton knew where that train of thought was going, stepping closer and putting his hand on Logan’s bicep. The logical Side’s words fell away as his eyes fell to Patton’s hand and then rose to his eyes.

 “Logan, you miss him.” Patton gave him a small, understanding smile, “You miss them both.” Logan’s eyes got a little glassy behind the lenses, “And I’m not really _them_.” Patton gently squeezed Logan’s arm and he blinked, his eyes clearing but tears pooling, ready to break free, “You’re allowed to feel the way you do.”

 Logan sipped at his coffee, giving himself more time to formulate a response, “However, my behaviour has not been fair on you.”

 Patton shook his head again, “You’ve not acted any differently than I would have expected.” Patton answered softly, catching Logan’s eyes with his, “Logan, you and I have a very different relationship.” The logical Side nodded, eyes falling to the floor, “And I’ll do the best I can to help ease your pain.”

 Logan breathed as deeply as he could, but Patton could see that was hard, eyes swimming with more tears and glassy, “I do appreciate all you’ve done, Patton.” His voice was wobbling, the mug trembling in his hand. With his spare hand, Patton helped stabilise it, “You’ve done so much and I…I’ve been-“

 “Now, Logan Sanders.” Patton let his voice grow a little stern and Logan closed his eyes, lowering his head with a small smile, “You stop that.” Patton was smiling when Logan lifted his eyes to Patton’s, “It’s time for breakfast, don’t you think?”

 Logan sighed, sipping from his coffee again, “Sounds wonderful, Patton.”

 “Go sit your butt down then!” he beamed at Logan, watching the way his eyes lit up a little and his smile became a little more genuine, “I wanna make pancakes!”

 

*

_Virgil_

 

 He still felt sore, body aching from his rather violent return to the Imagination only the day before, but he had things to do. And more importantly, a wounded Prince upstairs he had to keep _in bed_.

 Most of his exhaustion had already melted away. Sleeping for the better part of a day would do that, but he was still nowhere near ready to be standing up. Let alone sitting up.

 It hurt to walk up the stairs, and Virgil was hardly surprised to find that Roman had, in fact, managed to get himself upright again. He was also hardly surprised that Roman didn’t _stay_ upright for long.

 With a soft grunt, he’d fallen back into his pillows, sighing angrily up at the ceiling, only turning when Virgil gently closed the door.

 “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep that up.” Virgil gently chided, stepping through the room stiffly and sitting on the side of the bed.

 Roman blinked up at him, eyes tired but also burning with determination. Virgil was already seeing the Imagination taking over, changing both of their appearances. Roman’s eyes were already closer to gold than brown, and his hair had already gotten several shades lighter, _and_ longer.

 “I will not be trapped to this bed, Virgil.” Roman’s inflection was even more pronounced than before, “I’m _bored_.”

  _Until_ he whined.

 Virgil smiled with a soft laugh, cupping Roman’s cheek, “You need to _heal_ first.” Virgil gently chided, “Or at the very _least_ , ask for help.”

 Roman rolled his eyes but there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips, “ _Virgil_.”

 “ _Roman_.”

 Roman’s eyes met Virgil’s again, the fire of determination shrinking back a little to shine with something more adoring, “I hate it when you do that.”

 Virgil grinned, laying himself down on his stomach beside Roman, sides pressed together, “Do what?” Virgil teased, feeling Roman relax in to the many pillows Virgil had tried to supply for his comfort.

 Roman huffed a laugh, an arm moving to run fingers along the bandages around his chest, “You know what.” He smiled back, trying so hard to hide the exhaustion and pain.

 Virgil twisted onto his side, carefully hooking a leg over Roman’s, leaning on one elbow, “ _Roman_.” Even though he said the name warmly, the warning was hidden just beneath the surface, and his smile faded slightly, “You don’t _have_ to be okay.”

 The usual inner battle raged, Roman warring with his insecurities and impossibly high standards, before remembering _who he was talking to_. With a sigh, Roman sank back into the pillows, “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice rumbling as he let his eyes close.

 “You’ve been doing it a long time.” Virgil gently traced a finger over a small patch of skin, feeling Roman’s skin jump and twitch, “It’s habit.”

 Roman let his arm slip from his own chest back amongst his pillows, “You always see through it though.” Roman whispered with another deep sigh, “I don’t know why I keep trying…”

 Virgil shook his head, “That’s the thing.” Virgil shifted closer, foot gently rubbing along Roman’s calf, “You’re _not_.” He answered.

 “But-“

 “It’s your kneejerk reaction.” Virgil continued, “You don’t think about it until _after_ I’ve called you out on it.” Roman’s eyes slid elsewhere, “And I appreciate that you do, _sometimes_ , let it fall away.”

 Roman’s eyes slid back to Virgil’s, “You managed to get out, didn’t you?” his voice seemed unusually sombre but Virgil understood. Changing the subject was something Roman was usually quite good at.

 He was stumbling over it at present though.

 Virgil decided to play along, giving Roman nothing more than an eyebrow raise to say that he’d noticed, “I did. For a little while.” He groaned a little as he shifted, “Still sore.”

 Roman smirked, appreciating that Virgil changed the subject, “Do they know?”

 “Mm-hm.” Virgil sighed, “Doesn’t make this any easier though.”

 Roman frowned up at Virgil, who was gently tracing along the bandages around Roman’s chest. They didn’t need to say what the other already knew. They missed Logan and Patton, even if it had been only a day.

 Virgil missed Logan’s quiet stability and calm, his reason and logic that would have made keeping Roman in bed easier…if the nerd could keep his temper in check. And Patton could have easily tagged in to look after Roman when Virgil needed a break.

 It was easy to see that Roman missed them too, though Virgil wasn’t entirely sure of his own reasons, “We’ll get back.” Roman broke the silence with a firm nod, “Doesn’t matter how long I end up trapped here, I always manage to get back eventually.”

 “How many times has this happened before?” Virgil asked, tilting his head slightly as the royal’s breath slowed down a little, evening out, as he started to relax.

 “The first was just after…” his voice trailed off, eyes going glassy and distant, “…our first fight. When you-“

 “Became Anxiety.” Virgil answered for him, catching Roman’s glassy and apologetic eyes with a soft smile, “I forgave you for that.”

 “But I don’t-“ Roman took in a deep breath, “Sorry, off topic.” Virgil made a mental note to return to _that_ conversation point another time, “That was the first. That one was… _real_ scary.” He laughed breathlessly, “I don’t remember how I got out. I’d kind of…given up on ever getting out. And by the time I did-“ his voice got a little choked, “You’d stopped hiding out in the subconscious.”

 Virgil nodded, “You were a little…weird. When you came back.” Roman’s eyes flashed, “I noticed.”

 “You didn’t-“

 “No.”

 “Can I ask-“

 “You don’t want that answer, Ro.” Virgil softened his voice, “How many other times did it happen?” he asked, slowly reaching up and gently brushing a lock of hair from Roman’s eyes.

 Roman locked his eyes on Virgil, “I can think of maybe…four? Other times?” he answered, eyelids clearly getting heavy as he lay still, “Some lasted longer than others. It never matters what I do.” He sighed, “I can’t affect anything. Not like I usually can.”

 Virgil smirked, “The Imagination runs away from you.”

 “ _With_ me.” Roman answered with a grin, eyes sparkling as Virgil smiled back.

 “Roman…”

 “Yeah?”

 “Have you considered…and this is just a theory, hear me out,” Roman’s brows drew together as Virgil searched his face, “That Thomas might be the cause? Or someone else, in the mindscape?”

 Roman sighed, his eyes sliding to the ceiling, moments of silence dragging on between them. Virgil focussed on Roman’s breathing, the slow, but shallow, rise and fall of his chest.

 “I have.” He answered softly, blinking slowly, “But I couldn’t find anything to prove it.” He sighed, letting his eyes fall closed and turning his head to Virgil. His eyes opened, golden irises shining, “But this is the first time I haven’t been alone.”

 Virgil felt his heart pang with guilt and he frowned, “I’m so sorry, Roman.”

 Roman shook his head, “No, I mean…” he smiled, reaching a hand out and smiling when Virgil interlaced their fingers, “I mean it’s nice. And…thank you.”

 Virgil kissed Roman’s knuckles, “You’ve said that already.”

 “I mean it.”

 “I know.”

 Roman smiled, blinking slowly at Virgil, “Stay while I nap?”

 Virgil smirked, “I have some things to do.” He answered gently, “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

 A soft, vulnerable smile spread over Roman’s face, and he sighed, letting his eyes close, “Thank you.” He breathed, turning his face into the pillow and Virgil smiled back at him, pressing a kiss to Roman’s brows, feeling them relax under him.

 “Any time.”


	11. Breakthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I've had this one in my Drive for a while cause I'm a moron and forgot to post it, but here it is! A nice, soft chapter of Nightmare. <3

 

_ Imagination _

 

The canopy of the trees above were thick, blocking out most of the sunlight as Virgil walked slowly through the thick forest, moving as quietly as he possibly could. He was desperately out of practice, making too much noise as he walked slowly, frowning to himself. He  _ knew _ he could move quieter than this. Sure, it had been...almost a year since he’d been here like this. But he shouldn’t be  _ this _ out of practice.

His hoodie caught on a branch as he passed, snapping it off and it sounded like a gunshot in the silence of the forest. Virgil froze in place, straining his ears, hoping that no one had heard him. The silence was heavy and all encompassing, and Virgil couldn’t help but scoff at himself, smirking with a small shake of his head.

He had clearly spent too long in the mindscape. He  _ knew _ that there was nothing here. That was why he had  _ chosen  _ place.

Walking forward, muffling his movements a little more effectively now, he smirked as he remembered how he had chosen this spot. It was a strategic location for one. It bordered the ‘main’ part of the Imagination, where Roman spent most of his time, and Virgil’s own…’private’ section of the Imagination. This eased a few concerns for Virgil.

Considering that Roman never visited this section of the Imagination, it was pretty deserted. Virgil had only ever had a few visitors in the time he’d been here. And even then, they never intended on staying long. That meant that right now, they were entirely safe until Roman had healed.

However long  _ that _ took.

_ And _ considering how close they were to Virgil’s realm, time was a little more  _ stable _ . Virgil was well aware of the fluid state of time in the Imagination. And he knew the longer they spent in it, the more it would fluctuate. But Virgil’s realm was fairly constant, including time itself, even if...a whole day wasn’t exactly twenty four hours.

Virgil had to admit, it sure felt like a usual day, whether it ‘sped up’ or ‘slowed down’. And Roman was entirely oblivious to when or  _ if _ it happened.

He paused his walking, studying a path worn through the forest floor for a few moments. His own, if he remembered correctly. He turned to follow it away from his home.

When was the last time he’d wandered down this way? He’d found this spot fairly early on, though Virgil wasn’t sure how  _ old _ he’d been. It didn’t matter now, anyway, Virgil shrugged to himself as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

As the earth slowly sloped upward, the trees started to thin out and Virgil was starting to feel a cold wind as it whistled between the trees. The further up he climbed, the sparser the trees became and the harsher the wind got.

By the time he reached the top, the trees had disappeared behind him entirely, leaving him standing on a rocky mountain top. Virgil could practically hear Logan’s snarky comment now, ‘ _ Time shouldn’t  _ _ bend _ _ like that! _ ’

He couldn’t help but smile as he stood atop the mountain, taking in a slow and deep breath of the crisp, cool air, even as the wind lashed around him violently. Maybe he’d forgotten how calming it was to stand here, above all of the...well,  _ drama _ . Here he could forget it all. Forget that Roman was wounded, lying prone in a bed in Virgil’s own ‘home’. Forget that Logan and Patton were on the other side of the Imagination Door. Forget that even  _ he _ couldn’t get out for long.

And that was why he’d liked this spot for so long, wasn’t it? He came here to hide. To forget. To bury his loneliness and hurt and shame as deep as it would go until he could face the other Sides again.

Here, he had nothing but thoughts and the ever expanding Imagination to look over. Behind him, his own realm was calling to him, whispers on the wind and lingering, feather-light touches on his skin. There  _ was _ an urge to visit. There  _ always _ was.

But not today.

He sat on a large boulder, one foot hanging off the edge as he draped an arm over his knee and looked out. The largest ‘realm’ by far, was the ‘main’ section. A huge expanse of land where all four of the realms melded and meshed and blurred until it wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.

It was also the most  _ alive _ . Roman didn’t normally venture far from this part of the Imagination, his creativity and magic as strong there as it would be anywhere else. Virgil could see cities and villages, convoys and messengers, all moving about. Roman had done a lot to build his little kingdom.

And just out of sight, bordered by a thick forest even  _ Virgil _ had a hard time breaching, was Roman’s  _ true _ realm. Virgil couldn’t help but snicker to himself. Roman had actually gotten so  _ close _ to reaching it, but the dragon got in the way  _ just _ as the Imagination took control.

Maybe another time.

Virgil had only really glimpsed Roman’s true realm and from what he remembered, it was even more  _ alive _ than the harmless copy he’d made in the main realm. It was complex and ever-changing, much like Roman, and Virgil had found it spectacularly easy to slip into the shadows, to exist in the background and just observe.

He hadn’t stayed long though.

He and Roman had been at odds then, and the longer he’d stayed, the more he was  _ noticed _ , the less hospitable the place became. So he’d left quickly, slipping back out the way he came in, leaving nothing but his face in the memories of figments.

Opposite Roman’s realm, bordered by a lake that was almost always blanketed in fog, was Logan’s realm. If Virgil  _ had _ told Logan, he was certain the nerd would have swiped at him. Playful, but disbelieving. From what Virgil had seen of it,  _ it _ was gritty and realistic. There was little to  _ no _ magic there, and what could be used cost a heavy price. Virgil didn’t mind it, to be fair.

Logan’s realm didn’t shift or change like Roman’s did. Time was a constant, physics were... _ mostly _ realistic, and it mirrored reality very,  _ very _ well. Virgil had slipped comfortably into that realm too, once more a shadow in the background, but this time he wasn’t noticed as often. He’d spent a week there once, just existing in the world of Logan’s, and he  _ had _ enjoyed it. But that was  _ before  _ the ‘Am I Original?’ video.

Virgil’s eyes slid from Logan’s realm to a bright, sunny realm. There was nothing here bordering it away. If Patton knew he had an Imagination, he certainly wasn’t worried about any of the others finding it.

Patton’s realm was just as chaotic as the main realm was, constantly shifting and changing to Patton’s whims. And the man’s whims changed  _ frequently _ . Ironically, it was here that Virgil  _ couldn’t _ blend into the background and shadows. It seemed like every figment knew who he was, wanted to make him feel welcome, smiled when they caught his eye.

It had been both nice and also  _ way too weird _ .

As the sun started drifting toward the horizon, Virgil’s mind wandered to his own realm. A place he visited more often than he’d care to admit. He  _ did _ spend far too much time in the Imagination, for someone who believed ‘creativity wasn’t his department’, but it was an escape. A means to pass the time, and sometimes...a great escape from his anxiety.

His own realm was at least  _ somewhat _ stable, but it wasn’t exactly  _ safe _ either. If not for the fact that Virgil was still Instinct, basically, he wouldn’t be able to traverse it himself. His figments were loners, avoiding Virgil as much as he avoided them, but they recognised him for who he was.

And that was both jarring and concerning.

The whispers on the wind had gotten a little louder, small pleas to return, spend more time in the realm, change it the way he saw fit. Words he’d heard from... _ someone else _ before. Words he didn’t believe anymore. Virgil also knew that  _ they _ were no longer there.

It was only now that he truly felt the bitter cold wind and he shivered in his hoodie, pulling it closer around him as his eyes slowly scanned over the Imagination again.

The Imagination itself was so complex and so fluid Virgil wasn’t sure he truly understood it as much as he thought he did. Sure, he knew more than  _ Roman _ , but not nearly  _ enough _ . It was strange, to know so much more than the actual embodiment  _ Creativity _ , but he was the oldest too.

He had watched Roman discover and build the Imagination. He just hadn’t expected to be able to access it as freely as he had. Especially  _ after _ he became Anxiety.

The sun was beginning to dip low to the horizon, and to avoid thinking back, Virgil got to his feet on the edge of the mountain top. It was a long drop, and a few pebbles shifted beneath him, plummeting to the ground far below. But Virgil didn’t focus on that. He hadn’t since he was a child.

Instead, he looked out at the vast Imagination before him, feeling the wind whip his hair and hoodie around. He took his hands from his hoodie pockets, crossing them over his chest, and took in a slow, deep breath.

It didn’t matter to Virgil how long they were trapped there. Protecting Roman was his top priority for the time-being…

Even as he found himself worrying about Logan.

 

* * *

 

Even though he was dozing, Roman heard the front door open and close softly, echoing through the near-silent cottage and he took a deep breath as familiar, heavy footfalls drifted up the stairs.

“Roman?” Virgil’s low, deep voice called softly into the cottage, filling the space with a strange sense of security that Roman had missed while he was out.

“Mmhm.” he managed softly, pulling his eyes open just as his bedroom door opened.

The Imagination sure was taking over both of them. Virgil had already grown a head taller, and he wasn’t nearly as slouched as before, at least not when he was around Roman. His eyes had finally turned that enchanting shade of violet that Roman remembered from childhood, his hair growing nearly two inches in a few days. It was black too, hanging over his eyes and some tucked behind his ears, as haphazard as ever.

The make-up under his eyes was already replaced with small lines of magic, black as night and shimmying with purple stars. His hoodie was starting to look more like a coat, black fabric starting to look more like leather, but his purple patches were unchanged.

“What’s with  _ that _ look?” Virgil teased softly, smirking as he closed the door behind him. His favourite purple shirt fluttered over his chest and stomach as he tucked his hands into his skin-tight black skinny jeans. More tears had appeared as Virgil grew taller, revealing patches of soft, pale skin.

“It’s changing you too.” Roman whispered softly as Virgil sat on the side of the mattress, eyes trained on Roman, “You know that, right?”

He gave Roman such a soft smile that Roman felt warmth spreading in his chest, “Of course, I do, Roman.” he whispered, reaching out to gently brush his fingers over Roman’s forehead, “It’s not my first trip to the Imagination.”

Roman rolled his eyes with a soft laugh, “That’s not what I meant.”

Virgil shook his head with his own soft laugh, “I mean, the being taller part is weird.” Roman scoffed, “And it  _ hurt _ , but it’s all good now.”

“Virge?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not scared?” Roman tried to move his arm, managing to brush his fingertips over Virgil’s thigh. The Anxious Side jerked, eyes darting down to the touch, before he smirked and gently took Roman’s hand.

He shifted a little to comfortably hold Roman’s hand in his lap, thumb brushing gently over Roman’s knuckles, “Not the way you’d expect.” Virgil answered softly, studying Roman’s hand before starting to unravel the bandages, “The Imagination itself is not frightening for me, Roman.”

“It used to be.”

“When we were younger.” Virgil agreed, “But a lot has happened since then.”

Roman didn’t need that reminder, but he was right. A lot had happened since they were kids. He sighed as Virgil studied the wounds on Roman’s hand, “Virge?”

“Yeah?”

“You miss them too, right?” he asked in a near-whisper, swallowing hard as Virgil hissed in a breath, “You and Logan were together for ages and-”

Virgil gently squeezed Roman’s hand, “I do miss them, Ro.” he whispered, eyes filling with sadness as he massaged parts of Roman’s hand gently, “But if I focus on that-” his voice cracked, “I can’t focus on that now.”

Roman nodded slowly, sighing deeply and wincing slightly at the sharp pain that shot up his side. It had at least had the decency to heal  _ somewhat _ quickly, “Okay...I’m sorry.” Carefully, he caught Virgil’s fingers in his hand and the anxious Side paused to meet Roman’s eyes, “We’ll get back, yeah?”

A warm, hopeful smile spread on Virgil’s face, “We always do.” he answered confidently, “We’ve always been the king’s here.”

Roman couldn’t help but smile back at the familiar words and smile on Virgil’s face. It was like they were kids all over again, living different lives in the Imagination. But this time, Virgil was by his side, not playing a part Roman had written for him.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” Roman murmured back and Virgil’s smile twisted sadly, brows drawing together, “I can’t...I…”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” Virgil answered softly, “Do you need anything?”

Roman didn’t want to think about the alternative either, “Kinda hungry.” he laughed softly, surprised by the warm and proud smile that spread on Virgil’s face.

“Want me to get you something?” he twisted a little, “Or are you eager to try and walk?”

Roman couldn’t help but beam back, “You should know the answer to that.”

Virgil laughed, “Alright, alright.”

 

* * *

 

The kitchen was small, decorated in a warm peach colour with soft accents that made Roman feel more at home than he’d expected. It felt more like Patton had decorated it, homely and warm, than Virgil had.

“You said...this was  _ your _ place.”

Carefully, Virgil helped Roman into a chair at a small dining table, sweeping hair away from his eyes, “It is.”

Roman watched Virgil slip into the small kitchen, moving from a small fridge to the countertop. “You decorated it too?”

Virgil paused, meeting Roman’s eyes before he scoffed softly, “I had some inspiration from a particular side.” he admitted softly, “I don’t decorate _ everything _ in black and purple, Ro.” he winked, returning to the task at hand.

“When did you make it?” Roman asked softly, leaning forward into his hand, hoping to ease some of the tension in his back. It helped...a little.

Virgil’s brows furrowed, “I don’t really remember.” he admitted, “Some time after I changed.” turned to the stove, before returning back to the board in front of him, “But I can’t say for certain when.”

Roman suddenly grinned, “You kept coming back, didn’t you?” he asked warmly, catching Virgil’s surprised eyes, “To the Imagination.”

A soft blush spread on Virgil’s cheeks and he quickly averted his eyes back to the board, “I did.” he shrugged, “It was easy enough to sneak in and out, you know.”

Roman scoffed softly, shaking his head, “We may not have gotten along for a long while there, but I don’t  _ mind _ , Virgil.” The anxious Side paused, squinting suspiciously at Roman, “It’s nice to know that it...probably helped a little.”

Virgil’s mouth twisted into a sad smile, eyes falling back to the board but he didn’t move for a few long, quiet seconds, “Yeah.” he whispered, before returning to chopping, “It did.”

A peaceful quiet fell over them; Virgil preparing a meal and Roman watching quietly. He couldn’t help but notice how at home Virgil was in this kitchen. His own, if Virgil was to be believed.

Despite his current attire, Virgil looked like he fit into the kitchen like a puzzle piece. Unlike the mindscape, where he had to search for whatever it was he needed and made himself as small as physically possible to avoid accidental contact with whoever was in there with him...Virgil found everything in moments, striding through the kitchen with ease.

“How are they?” Virgil asked, his back to Roman as he stirred something in the pot over the stove and Roman was violently jerked from thoughts.

“What?”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder to Roman, eyes dancing warmly, “Your wounds. How are they?”

Virgil had turned back around before Roman could answer, “They hurt.” he scoffed softly, “But I know I’m in good hands so…” he shrugged just as Virgil had paused to glance at him, “No need to rush the healing process, right?”

Virgil smirked as he turned off the stove, “Exactly.”

“How long do you think we’ve been here?” Roman asked, tilting his head as Virgil turned with the pot, gently placing it on a pot holder and tossing the dishcloth over his shoulder.

“I haven’t a clue.” Virgil laughed, “And I don’t want to even  _ try _ and do the maths on that one.”

Roman snickered, fighting a yawn as Virgil started to prepare bowls, “Logan would be better off trying that.”

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly, “If he could grasp the fluidity of time here.” he answered, joining Roman at the table, “Eat as much as you can.” he said before sitting with his own, “You don’t  _ have _ to finish it.”

It was Roman’s turn to fondly roll his eyes, “Yes,  _ mum _ .”

The anxious Side choked on his soup, earning an all too familiar glare, and Roman couldn’t help but laugh, throwing his head back despite the pain in his chest from the laughter. Despite being trapped, despite being seperated, despite having no  _ idea _ how to start…it was nice to still laugh. And Roman was certain he caught a smirk from Virgil.

Virgil’s ability to cook seemed to grow while he was in the Imagination. He’d upgraded from burning water (which Roman  _ still _ couldn’t understand) to making a meal that rivalled Patton’s own ability. It was a fairly simple soup, with some fresh bread on the side, but it was the nicest thing Roman had been able to stomach in days. He may have missed the smirk, he didn’t miss the blush when Roman complimented the meal, or the proud smile when he managed to finish it all.

 

* * *

 

_ Mindscape _

 

Even though it had felt more like a few months, Logan knew that it had realistically only been a week since he’d last seen Virgil or Roman. The mindscape was eerily quiet without either of them, even as Patton did his best to fill in the quiet with his humming or music or movies.

Logan appreciated the effort. But it wasn’t really the same. Patton wasn’t as boisterous or dramatic as Roman was, the prince declaring his arrival and filling rooms with his presence. The mindscape felt eerily void without him. His loud singing or his excited chatter about a new idea. Even on his quiet days, where he’d sit and write or draw, or simply watch a movie, he filled the room with his presence, demanding a certain kind of attention.

Virgil was a different kind of presence. On good days, he was a constant, quiet presence. He filled the room in his own way, and on good days, it was calming for Logan. He knew where he could find him, or what he was doing. Bad days, Logan knew how to help him, how to be a stabilising presence for him, to soothe the wild energy that would slide out of his control.

Logan missed them both terribly and he knew Patton did too. Logan missed walking out of his room late at night, to find the pair curled up watching a movie. Or finding Roman quietly humming as he drew something on the couch, completely engrossed in his work and unaware of Logan’s watching eyes. Or spotting Virgil on the kitchen counter, reaching for something, risking his life-and-limb in ways he refused to let anyone else do. He missed the way Roman’s brows furrowed as he thought hard about a point Logan had raised, or the way Virgil’s tongue slipped out between his teeth as he focussed on something.

In short, Logan missed them.

And he knew Patton did too. He’d found Patton in Virgil’s room on more than one occasion, petting the old hoodie or staring at the card Patton had made, fingers trembling as he smiled through tears. He’d caught Patton glancing to Roman’s door, face twisted with deep concern, eyes alight with a burning Logan recognised.

Yet, they attempted to maintain the norm. Quiet breakfast in the morning, quiet lunch, quiet dinner. Conversation throughout the day, filling the air with music or movies, anything to fight off the never-ending silence.

They’d managed for a week. It made sense that they could keep trying, keep maintaining the norm for as long as possible. Thomas was functioning perfectly fine, even if he was daydreaming far more than he should have been, and the separation didn’t seem to be negatively affecting his creativity or self-preservation instincts in the slightest.

All the same...Logan didn’t  _ want _ to attempt to maintain the norm.

So he found himself once more standing in front of Roman’s door. Considering how long they’d been gone, Logan was surprised the door hadn’t already started to change appearance. But then again, when had it ever? Even during dips and spirals that Roman had in the past, nothing had changed outside the bedroom. The door’s paint was as vibrant as ever, the scar still present in the wood, the handle peppered with only the tiniest amount of dust.

The handle was cold under his fingers as he gently brushed the metal, leaving thin lines through the dust. Was there a way to get in? Would the magic that kept them out fade if he wasn’t present for long enough? Logan wished he knew.

A warm hand gently wrapped around his elbow, and Logan jerked with surprise, catching Patton’s bright eyes with his. He didn’t speak, not wanting to retread an all-too-familiar conversation, but nodded his understanding instead.

Quietly, Patton slipped his arm around Logan’s waist, and he wrapped his arm around Patton’s shoulders. The warmth of Patton against his side was somewhat calming, resting his cheek on the crown of Patton’s head, looking at the door intently.

“How long do you think it’s been for them?” Patton asked quietly, his head resting on Logan’s shoulder.

Logan sighed, “Roman had a hard time describing how time worked in the Imagination.” he admitted quietly, squeezing Patton closer, “And Virgil was evasive about it.”

Patton sighed, “So...we just know it doesn’t work the same?”

Logan nodded, “The best Roman could say was that it was ‘fluid’.”

The moral Side sighed, wrapping his other arm around Logan’s waist, and the pair stood in silence for a while, basking in their closeness.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

Patton lifted his head, and Logan met Patton’s eyes. They were bright, shining with an idea, a smile hesitantly pulling at his lips, “What if we tried to open the door together?”

Now that, was something Logan hadn’t considered. The door usually responded to Patton’s touch, even if Roman wasn’t present. It may not open, but it would respond...maybe at Logan’s touch, it would attempt to let them access?

All the same, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. “We should try.” It was  _ something _ .

Patton pulled away, taking Logan’s hand in his and caught Logan’s eyes, wide with hope. Logan did his best not to let the hope show in his own eyes. He didn’t know how he would handle the disappointment.

The wood was unusually cold under his hand, but the magic seemed to sense them both, a flicker of golden light appearing from the crown painted above them. Silence fell over them, but Patton kept his hand over Logan’s, slowly lifting his other to press against the wood. A soft buzz was already sweeping around them, magic starting to stir in the air and Logan had to force air deep into his lungs.

Hope was trying to flicker free, to come alive but Logan really,  _ really _ didn’t want to be disappointed.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his other hand to press against the wood, the buzz getting louder and more intense. A wind started to spin around them, ruffling their hair and clothes, almost tempting Logan to press the tie flat against his chest.

“Please…” Logan heard Patton softly begging, tears rolling down his cheeks, “Please...let us  _ in _ .”

Closing his eyes, Logan focussed on the sensation of magic rushing around him. It was so foreign and part of his brain was screaming  _ illogical, makes no sense, deny it _ -

But the possibility of seeing either Virgil or Roman again?

He could ignore it for now.

With what felt like a begrudging groan, the door finally gave up, a spell shattering like glass around them and the door collapsed inward, sending both Patton and Logan tumbling into the Prince’s room.

Patton was up before Logan was, bolting into the one room neither of them had been able to enter for a week. On the other hand, the logical Side had to take his time peeling himself from the floor, head spinning violently from the magic still surging through his system.

When he’d finally gotten to his feet, his vision swam a little, before focussing on the room. It was  _ just _ as Roman would have left it. Logan couldn’t help the wave of relief that rushed over him, as he stumbled to the bed. Patton had already curled up amongst Roman’s  _ many _ pillows, sobbing softly into the fabric.

“Patton,” his voice cracked, still struggling with the spinning in his head and the magic still surging under his skin, “We...we did it…”

Patton twisted to him, eyes wide and bright and so full of joy, despite the tears rushing down his cheeks, “We did!” he leapt to his feet, wrapping Logan in his arms and holding him tight, “We did it.” his voice cracked as he hid his face in Logan’s chest, shoulders starting to tremble again, Logan thinking to wrap his arms around Patton’s shoulders, “Oh my god…”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh shakily, relieved and dizzy and... _ overjoyed _ . They were so much closer now. And everything was going to be okay.

Until the bedroom door slammed shut with a finality that sent Logan’s blood cold.


	12. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Vomit, Panic,

 

_ Imagination _

 

Most nights, Virgil wasn’t able to figure out why he woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. Most nights, he would shoot back into reality, jerking and sweating and frightened, but not sure why. Most nights, he’d chalk it up to nightmares and go back to sleep.

Not this night.

He bolted upright in bed, the magic under his skin ablaze, squirming and desperate for some kind of release, and in the bright moonlight that shone through his window, Virgil lifted his hands. Small, thin lines were writhing over his skin, though he couldn’t tell if they were black or purple in the silvery light. His heart was racing, not from fear, but with purpose he couldn’t explain.

What was the urgency? Why did he need to get up  _ now _ ?

The chill of the night rolled over his bare chest and back, making him shiver as he twisted to get out of bed. He wasn’t sure why he was getting up, but he needed to. Something was driving at him, pulling him outside and he wasn’t sure  _ why _ .

He stumbled out into the hall, shirt stuck over his head as he tried to work his arm through it. A door opened and Virgil managed to finally wrangle the shirt into submission, eyes wide when they saw Roman leaning against the doorframe, offering a small smile. He looked exhausted already, “You feel it too then?”

Virgil nearly completely forgot the magic swirling inside him, “What are you-”

“I was coming to get you.” Roman answered, breathless as he leant heavily against the doorframe, “I’m in  _ no  _ state to deal with whatever  _ this- _ ” he held his own hand up to reveal red and gold lines writhing over his skin, “-is alone.”

If a sense of desperate urgency hadn’t been pushing at Virgil, he would have wept with pride. As it was, he moved to Roman’s side, slinging Roman’s arm over his shoulders, “We’ll talk about how  _ that _ is progress later.” he teased, earning a soft laugh as he helped Roman down the stairs for the second time that day, “Has this ever happened before?”

Roman shook his head, “Not that I know of. You?”

A frown twisted at Virgil’s face, “Not like this.” he answered, feeling the tug as they tried to pass the front door. Roman shifted, trying to stand on his own two feet and for once, Virgil tried to let him. He wavered, unsteady, but smiled up at Virgil all the same.

“It’ll do.” he offered, “C’mon.” he nodded to the door, “Let’s find out what the hell is going on.”

Roman got the door open and Virgil followed him outside, hissing at the cold air outside, a breeze already starting to pick up. He shivered under his thin t-shirt, glancing down to Roman. He was  _ still _ technically shirtless, besides the bandages wrapped over and around him, but besides goosebumps, he didn’t betray he was cold.

Before Virgil could bring it up though, Roman was stumbling through the trees and Virgil had to trot to catch up with him, “You know the area well, right?” Roman asked, glancing sidelong up at Virgil.

He grunted softly with a nod, “Yeah.” he weaved under a low-branch, “Why?”

“You’re gonna need to go ahead.” Roman’s magic flashed suddenly and he cried out, leaning against a tree, “I’ll take too long.”

“Roman-”

“Whatever this is, it’s important  _ one _ of us is there.” Roman answered through his grit teeth, managing to straighten back onto his feet and stumbling forward again. Virgil weaved by his side, “And I’m going to take too long.”

“I’m not-”

“ _ Go _ , Virgil.”

It was rare for Roman’s voice to take on a serious, commanding tone, but Virgil struggled to find a reason to hang back with Roman. The woods really  _ weren’t _ dangerous. There were no threats here. That was one of the reasons Virgil had gone for that walk after all. To be  _ sure _ . Roman could handle himself for a short time, and if Virgil  _ knew _ Roman as well as he did, the prince wasn’t going to stop until he reached Virgil at the centre of this.

He frowned, “Alright, fine.” Virgil conceded, not missing the surprise on Roman’s face, “But you keep yourself safe, you hear me?” he searched Roman’s face for a moment, “I hate when you get hurt.”

Roman gave Virgil a small and reassuring smile, pulling him close by his shirt. Virgil stumbled to a stop with a yelp, leaning down close to Roman’s face, eyes wide, “The same goes for you.”

Before Virgil could answer, Roman’s other hand was buried in his hair, strong and steady. Then their lips met and Virgil squeaked in surprise, but melted with a content hum. It was definitely an experience to be on the other side of this, Virgil mused to himself, too accustomed to being the one in charge. Or initiating...whatever it was. Roman’s grip on his shirt loosened and spread out, before he broke the kiss.

“No injuries, you hear me?” Roman whispered hoarsely, before pushing against Virgil’s chest, the hand on his neck falling away.

Dazed, blinking in surprise at Roman, who only smiled back, he nodded, “Yeah...yeah, okay.”

Roman watched Virgil disappear into the woods, smiling to himself as he stumbled through the thick woods.  _ That _ had been worth it. He half-expected Virgil to break away sooner. He hadn’t expected him to melt against it and more importantly, he hadn’t expected that adorably dazed and surprised expression on his face.

Definitely worth it.

 

* * *

 

_ Mindscape _

 

“ _ Logan?! _ ” Patton cried as the wind around them whipped more violently, tearing at their clothes, his hand clutching his cat hoodie to his chest and shielding his face, an attempt to keep his glasses at the very least. The wind was loud and wild, sending papers wildly around the room, nearly knocking Patton off his feet, “Logan, what’s happening?!”

He barely heard Logan’s grunt from the other end of the room, “I don’t know!” his voice was tinged with panic, his usually calm and collected tone reflected the emotional turmoil and more importantly…

He  _ didn’t _ know.

Risking his glasses, Patton slightly raised his head and opened his eyes, trying to find Logan in the chaos that had been Roman’s room. The logical Side was pressed against the door back into the mindscape, shielding his own face as he looked to the big red door, eyes narrowed with thought and against the violent wind. He ignored his fluttering tie, something Patton had never considered would happen, eyes shifting to meet Patton’s.

There was something wild there, panic or fear, Patton wasn’t sure. But it was so foreign on Logan’s face, Patton’s heart clenched.

“What do we do?!” Patton cried back, trying to shuffle his feet, to combat the wind. He had to be close to Logan...he had to know that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to seperate them.

Seemingly having the same idea, Logan reached out to Patton, leaning as far as he dared, “I don’t  _ know _ !” he cried again, their fingers lashing together. The logical Side tugged Patton, the other yelping as he was yanked against Logan’s chest and two strong, thin arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he muttered into Patton’s ear, and as Patton wrapped his own arms around Logan’s waist, he could feel the the logical Side shaking. “I don’t understand-”

Patton couldn’t help the way his heart clenched again, hearing Logan so lost and frightened, he tightened his hold, “It’s okay, it’s okay if you don’t know-”

“It’s  _ not _ okay!” Logan cried, his voice cracking, “How am I supposed to-”

“Shh,” Patton felt Logan sag against him, a poorly muffled sob escaping the logical Side, “You’re not alone though, we’re together-”

A sudden rush of wind pressed them both against the door, the pair yelping and Patton felt Logan lift his head from Patton’s shoulder to the red door of the Imagination. Patton dared his own glance, finding no more than a bright white light shining from the doorway over them both.

“I think…” Logan started, tears rolling down his face, forgotten by the possibility of an answer, “I think we have to-”

“But the door?! Thomas?!”

Logan winced, “It won’t open, Patton.” his voice cracked as his eyes went hazy, looking to the air for an answer, “I tried and it won’t budge and I just-”

Patton sucked in a breath, “Okay,” he murmured, feeling Logan’s shaky but somewhat deep breath in, “Okay, I believe you.” It was not unusual for Patton to comfort  _ Virgil _ through something troubling...but to see that same panic on Logan? It made his heart squirm and twist in ways Patton hadn’t thought possible, “So-”

Before either of them could come up with a plan, the light got even brighter, the wind whipping even more violently around them, and the pair thought to cling to each other even more tightly.

“Patton?!” Logan’s cry was nearly drowned out by the rushing of the wind, even as he shouted so close to Patton’s ear, “Please, please don’t let go!”

Patton nodded against his chest, tightening his grip as much as possible, closing his eyes against the violent wind. Something shifted, the mindscape feeling like it twisted and turned, the pair crying out as they found themselves falling. Logan buried his face in Patton’s shoulder, clinging to Patton, even as they seemed to fall, Patton clinging back all the same.

He had to admit, the thought that they were going to die occurred to him then. Death wasn’t even necessarily something they could  _ do _ , he was sure of it. At least...not the way  _ they _ knew death. But this...the falling for what felt like ages...it felt pretty close to the end.

Was Thomas dying? Had something happened, while they were trapped in Roman’s room? Were they not paying enough attention-

When they finally did hit the ground, it didn’t feel like they’d fallen that far at all, merely picked up and tossed out. Both Sides cried out as they tumbled, losing their grip of each other, but Patton ended up lying over Logan’s stomach as the logical Side groaned softly on his back.

The wind had ceased, going from a violent wind to a soft breeze at the most and Patton struggled to gain his own bearings. Grass brushed against his arms, soft and long, and the emotional Side couldn’t help but frown as he carefully pushed himself up onto his arms. The sight before him was almost too much to comprehend.

Long grass surrounded them on all sides, stretching for ages. On one side, it turned into a grassy plain, stretching as far as the eye could see. In the dark of the night (hadn’t it just been mid-afternoon?) Patton could make out the shimmering reflection of the moon in a lake. A thick treeline blocked the world in front of Patton, dark and foreboding, stretching around his right side before tapering off to hilly grasslands, dotted with trees and wildflowers of all shades.

“Patton…” Logan’s weak whimper broke Patton out of his thoughts, “I’m gonna-” Logan gagged, a hand flying reflexively to his mouth and Patton quickly scrambled off Logan, gently turning him to his side. As another gag rolled through Logan, he helped him rise up onto his arms, gently rubbing his back, “Dizzy…” he whined, leaning back into Patton’s touch as much as he dared.

“It’s alright, it’ll pass.” Patton murmured gently, pressing his hand more firmly against Logan’s back. The logical Side hummed his agreement, gagging again and whining as he panted, “I’ve got you, Lo.”

Movement in the distance caught Patton’s eye, something dark and fast shooting out of the treeline toward them, masked by the darkness. Patton watched, his heart fluttering as it moved faster than Patton thought humanly possible toward them, but when the shadowy outline hit a patch of moonlight, Patton’s heart soared all over again.

He looked very different than the last Patton saw him. Taller, thinner, more sharp angles and dark edges, but the bright, relieved smile on his face...Patton would never forget that.

Logan retched again, this time expelling what little he’d managed to eat, and Patton turned his attention back to the quivering Side, shifting slightly to pull hair from Logan’s face. Sweaty and violently shaking, Logan hadn’t opened his eyes, reflex tears shining in the corners of his eyes.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Patton murmured, glancing up to...well, if Patton didn’t know any better, it was a damn good impression of Virgil. He  _ hoped _ it was actually Virgil. “Let it out if you have to-”

Logan whined, curling in on himself as another strong gag had him dry-retching, barely managing to hold himself up, sweaty hair falling back over his face. “Won’t...stop...spinning…” Logan whimpered and Patton thought to wrap an arm around Logan’s shoulders, just as his elbow gave out beneath him, “Make it...stop…”

The quiet crunching of grass was Patton’s only indication that someone was approaching and when he looked up, Patton was surprised to see Virgil standing a lot closer than his footfalls had implied. He was  _ much _ taller than he’d been before, thinner too, wearing his shirt without the hoodie and it fluttered more around him than it had before. His beaming grin had pulled back into a soft smile, pale lilac eyes shining as he took in the two Sides in the grass.

“How in the world-” Virgil’s usually low, gravelly voice betrayed warmth, “-did you two manage to get in here?” he asked, the logical Side jerking when he registered Virgil’s voice.

Logan’s eyes fluttered, but he groaned, sinking back against Patton, “V-vir-” he cleared his throat, “Vir-”

“Hey,” Virgil murmured softly, moving a little closer through the grass as he locked his eyes with Patton, “Everything is going to be okay.” Logan groaned, his cheeks flushing with heat and head falling back against Patton’s shoulder.

“We managed to get into Roman’s room-” Virgil opened his mouth to ask, his eyes widening in surprise, but they softened as Patton continued, “-and then there was this wind and we were falling and-”

“Whoa, hey,” Virgil chuckled softly, “I don’t know how you broke into Princey’s room,” his smile was warm and bright, eye shining with hope and joy, “But I can’t say I’m surprised it dumped you two in here.” Logan groaned softly in Patton’s arms, his body lax even as he trembled, “How about I take him from you? Get you two somewhere safe.”

“Safe?” Patton asked, surprised when Virgil managed to take Logan with ease, cradling him bridal-style in his arms. Logan had his head tucked under Virgil’s chin, panting softly, one arm draped over his middle and the other dangling limp, “How do you-”

Virgil nodded toward the tree-line, “We’ve been here a while, Pat.” the affectionate nickname brought a beaming smile to Patton’s face, eyes filling with tears. How long had it been since he’d heard that from Virgil? A week maybe, that had easily felt like eternity, “And I’ve been here before. Can’t say I have the same ability to create as Roman does, but it’s still fun.”

Virgil turned and walked away a few steps, but Patton couldn’t move his feet, standing silent and shaking as Virgil paused, Logan cradled in his arms and half-turned to Patton. There was worry shining in his eyes now, warm and loving, searching Patton as he stood and stared after Virgil.

He just wanted to hug him, hold him close, and never,  _ ever _ let go again.

“Hey, Pat?”

His eyes widened when he realised he’d been staring, and he felt a flush when he realised tears were streaming down his cheeks. There was that warm smile again, shy and caring, eyes still dancing with that soft adoration.

“We missed you too.”

Like Virgil had managed to say some kind of spell, Patton’s feet carried him forward, hand gripping to the back of Virgil’s shirt, burying his face against Virgil’s arm. He wanted nothing more than to hold...or  _ be held _ ...by Virgil, aching for it, even as they very slowly walked together back toward the treeline.

Virgil murmured soft, nothing words of comfort, pausing once to lean down and bury his face in Patton’s hair. His small attempt at affection, nuzzling with a soft hum and a deep sigh before the pair continued again. In the distance, something pale glowed in the moonlight and Patton looked up, eyes widening when they fell on another familiar figure. He was leaning against a tree, exhausted, but pushed himself upright when he saw them, waving. Virgil chuckled warmly, smiling back, pausing when Patton did.

His hair was longer, his shoulders broader, skin a few shades darker. It looked like he’d stumbled from bed, yawning as he took a shaky step forward and moved slowly toward them. Much like Virgil, he was in a state of undress, chest bare save for the bandages, wearing a pair of borrowed, light grey slacks.

“Is that…” Patton murmured, eyes caught on Roman, shining with hope as the other trudged down the hill toward them.

“Yeah, that’s Princey.” Virgil murmured, “You might wanna go to him.” he added playfully, meeting Patton’s eyes when the emotional Side turned to look up at him, “He’ll be  _ impossible _ to get back up that hill.”

Once more, Patton’s legs took off before he’d thought it through, tears already streaming from his eyes as Roman paused, a bright grin spreading on his own face. He threw himself at the prince, expecting to fall, but found himself caught in the strongest pair of arms he’d ever felt, arms scrabbling over Roman’s back and shoulders for purchase. He didn’t realise he was crying until Roman’s hand cupped the back of his head, steady and strong, his deep voice rumbling through his chest into his ear. Soft words, comfort, as he held him and rocked them, seemingly unconcerned that Patton couldn’t reach the ground.

“How’s he?” Roman asked softly, pulling Patton closer and the emotional Side realised he hadn’t even heard him approaching.

“Sick but that’s to be expected.” Virgil answered just as softly, “And Pat?”

“Overwhelmed.” Roman murmured, “Go on ahead, we’ll catch up.”

Patton felt more than he saw the silent conversation, the raised eyebrows and twitching smirks, the tiny movements that signalled an entire conversation was being had in silence. Roman kept his hold on Patton firm, letting the smaller Side wrap his legs around his waist and his face buried in Roman’s neck.

“Together.” Virgil answered softly.

Another silent conversation, this one a little more heated, before something flushed in Roman, some kind of understanding, looking past the words that came from Virgil to the reason behind it.

“Together.” Roman agreed, his own voice soft, nodding once to Virgil. The anxious Side relaxed, relieved not to be fighting, sighing out a breath he likely didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Thank you.”

Roman laughed, hearty but quiet, “Don’t sweat it, Panic at the Everywhere.”

The walk back was fairly quiet, save for Logan’s occasional groans and Patton’s sniffling and sobbing into Roman’s neck. Neither Roman nor Virgil seemed at all surprised, not necessarily prepared, but not surprised that the other two Sides were reacting the way they were.

Patton had been quiet for a while, just enjoying Roman’s closeness, arm shifting to hold him up more comfortably when he spoke quietly to Virgil, “How long do you think it’s been?”

Virgil made a soft noise of discomfort, “Their reactions, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

A short silence fell over them as Patton kept himself as still and relaxed as possible. It wasn’t every day they worked together so well...even a friendly conversation often turned to banter and sometimes...though rare now, an argument.

“Maybe a week or two?” Virgil offered, “Logan’s never handled the Imagination well, but given Pat’s reaction-” his heart still soared at hearing that nickname from Virgil, “-I’d say it’s been longer for them than us.”

Patton felt Roman’s nod with a soft, “Hm.” The hand in Patton’s hair gently massaging his scalp, “Virge?”

“Hm?”

“How’d they…”

Virgil snickered softly, “Apparently, they broke into your room.” A soft noise of offense escaped Roman, “I don’t know how, but they did.” He chuckled softly, “What I do know, is that the room promptly dumped them in here.”

“That’s unusual.” Roman murmured, “But I suppose that might have to do with the lock-”

“When were you planning on changing that anyway?” the tone was teasing and light, “I’m surprised you hadn’t already.”

“I meant to, I just…” Roman groaned softly, but with  _ flair _ , “I kept  _ forgetting _ .”

Virgil laughed softly, trying to stifle his hysterical laughter into giggles, “Oh my god, Ro.”

“Shut up!” he whined softly, “I get distracted easily!”

“I know.” Virgil answered more fondly, standing close enough their arms were brushing, “Lean against me a little, we’re nearly there.”

“Virge, I’m okay-”

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep.” Patton nearly frowned when Roman grumbled but started leaning against Virgil, “There we go. Not long now.”


	13. First Morning Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I've had this one a while (I seem to be saying that a lot these days XD) but I wasn't sure about it. I like it now, and hopefully you will too! Our bois enjoy some good, quality time together.
> 
> No warnings either!

 

_ Imagination _

 

Carefully, Virgil opened the front door and nudged Roman forward with his shoulder, watching the prince stumble in with Patton locked in his arms. He couldn’t help the fond smile that pulled onto his face as he stepped in after them, carefully nudging the door closed as Roman stumbled with the sleeping Patton into the living room and collapsed onto a recliner.

The movement woke Patton with a start, arms tightening around Roman with a tiny whine as Virgil padded to the loveseat. Roman’s soft but exhausted voice broke the silence, words of comfort to the overwhelmed Side, who was trying not to cry.

Virgil carefully rested Logan onto the loveseat, slowly drawing away as the logical Side’s brows furrowed slightly and he groaned softly. Gently he removed Logan’s glasses, folding them and placing them on the table behind him before pressing his forehead to Logan’s.

“Still sick?” Roman asked quietly, voice thick with fatigue and Virgil pulled away to meet Roman’s eyes. The royal was desperately fighting sleep, arms comfortable around Patton, who had snuggled up under his chin. It was a losing battle, his eyelids dropping closed before the prince shook himself awake.

“Yeah, and probably will be for a while.” Virgil answered, keeping his own voice pitched low so he didn’t wake either of them, “One hell of a way to get dumped in the Imagination.” he sighed, before straightening, “ _ You  _ should get some rest, Princey.” The royal grunted at him, pouting as Virgil moved to the kitchen.

He paused beside the recliner, reaching out to gently brush hair from Roman’s eyes, fingertips dancing over the royal’s forehead, “Need to-” a yawn, “-help...you…”

Virgil shook his head, “I got this, Princey.” he leant down to press a soft kiss to Roman’s forehead, feeling the tension ease away, “Rest.”

His eyelids refused to open and the prince made a small noise of frustration as Virgil grabbed a throw blanket from behind the couch. Tucking them both in as gently as he could, Virgil smiled brightly when he realised they’d both fallen asleep, Roman’s head tilted back against the recliner.

He spent some time gathering what little medicine he had, some cool water and a snack, before heading back into the living room. The logical Side’s eyes were half-open, hazy and distant, as he tried to survey the room without moving his head and Virgil laughed softly as he put the large bowl of cool water down on the table behind him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Virgil spoke as softly as he could, catching Logan’s eyes with his own. Those deep brown eyes he had missed so dearly, shining with a glimmer of hope that maybe...just  _ maybe _ this  _ was _ Virgil, “How are you feeling?”

His brows drew together, the corner of his lip twisting downward, “Awful.”

A small smirk pulled at Virgil’s face, “I don’t doubt.” He slowly knelt by Logan’s head, not surprised the logical Side’s eyes followed his every movement. He took a bite of the biscuit he’d brought with him, chewing slowly as he dampened a cloth, “It’ll pass soon.”

Logan huffed, eyes drifting closed as he squirmed slightly, “I doubt that.”

Virgil shook his head, wringing out the cloth, “All you have to do in the meantime, is rest.”

A grimace crossed Logan’s face, “We have to get back-”

“Uh-uh, nope.” Virgil slipped a little closer, gently draping the cloth over Logan’s forehead. The other side shivered and hissed slightly at the cool sensation, before practically sinking into the loveseat, “You are not allowed to think for at least three days.”

“But-”

“No. Thinking.” he teased lightly, reaching up to loosen Logan’s tie, “You’ll do plenty of that later, I’m sure.” A small smirk twitched at Logan’s lip, swallowing hard as he felt the tie gently slip away, “But you need to rest now.”

Logan was silent as Virgil gently undid the buttons of Logan’s collar, and slipped down to untuck Logan’s pants. He’d been pretty sure the logical Side had fallen asleep, even as he unbuckled his belt and carefully slid it out of the belt loops.

“I missed you.” Logan murmured softly, drawling with fatigue, hands tensing as though trying to grasp something, “So much-”

Discarding Logan’s shoes, Virgil gently draped a thick blanket over Logan and sat back by his head, “I missed you too, Lo.” Virgil murmured softly, hand falling onto Logan’s bicep over the blanket, “So goddamn much.”

The logical Side turned his head toward Virgil, eyes still closed, “I was scared.” he whispered, arm twitching under Virgil’s hand, “I wouldn’t see you again and I-”

“Hey, sshh.” Virgil gently squeezed Logan’s arm, “I’m here now, everything is going to be okay.”

Logan scoffed softly, turning his face back toward the ceiling, “We’re stuck in the Imagination.” he answered dryly, “I would hardly call that okay.”

Virgil snickered, gently turning the cloth over, “For you, maybe.”

Logan grunted quietly, “Rude.”

“Sleep, Lo.” the logical Side made another grunting noise, “I’ve got you now, okay?” His brows finally relaxed, shoulders sliding down to relax, “I’m here.”

Logan drew in a deep breath, “You are…” he whispered, awed and content, sighing deeply, “God, I missed you.”

Carefully, Virgil drew up to press a soft kiss to Logan’s cheek, “I missed you too.”

With the fever he was fighting and the general shock of magic to his system, Logan didn’t take long to fall back asleep and Virgil sighed to himself, sitting back on his feet. He waited a few more minutes before he gently refreshed the towel, and turned to sit back against the couch.

The house fell into a quiet slumber, all but Virgil asleep as the late night became early morning, thoughtfully munching on a small handful biscuits. Every so often, Virgil would refresh the cloth over Logan’s forehead, check his temperature and even took Patton’s glasses to ensure he stayed comfortable.

As early morning turned to dawn, Virgil let himself drift off, leaning his head back against the arm of the couch, listening to the quiet of the cottage. The soft and deep breathing of Roman and Patton, Logan’s a little too fast. The breeze gently rattling that one window Virgil had never fixed. The leaves rustling outside, brushing against the eaves.

It was enough to send him into a light doze, wrapped in the security that his family was here, they were with him and he could  _ protect  _ them.

As dawn turned to morning, Virgil felt sunlight over his face, streaming in from the back window, gently stirring Virgil from his doze. The sunlight shocked his eyes, burning through his skull but it was one hell of a wake-up call and he shifted to refresh the cloth over Logan’s forehead.

“Did  _ you _ sleep?” Roman’s groggy voice broke the quiet and Virgil jumped, spinning around to Roman, his eyes wide.

“Jesus-” he breathed, a hand pressing to his racing heart, “-don’t startle me like that.”

Roman gave him an apologetic smirk, eyes still hooded as Patton stirred against him, “Virgil?”

The anxious Side turned away, brushing sweaty hair from Logan’s forehead, “I got some.” he lied, pressing the back of his hand against Logan’s cheek. He was still far too warm, the flush on his face getting worse, but his breathing had eased and he looked relaxed.

Virgil could hear movement behind him as he carefully got to his feet, trying to ignore the way his knees were threatening to give out under him.

“Virgil.” Roman’s voice was serious and low again, “You can rest.”

“I did.” He’d only really dozed, but he’d allowed himself the chance to...so it was only  _ really _ a half-truth.

A soft hum filled the space and Virgil glanced over his shoulder to see Patton stretching to the ceiling, a warm smile on his face before he opened his eyes. “Mornin’ kiddo.” Patton spoke into the quiet, glancing between Roman and Virgil.

“Virgil-”

“ _ Roman- _ ”

“C’mere.” the prince offered, arms open, “I can’t chase you.”

Virgil’s pale lilac eyes flicked from Roman to Patton, darkening for a moment before he turned back to Logan, “I’m fine, Roman.” He straightened from over the logical Side, a frown twitching onto Roman’s face. Virgil stretched his own back, “Please.”

Roman’s mouth opened, obviously an attempt to push the issue as his arms fell to his lap, but Patton gently shook his head, “Heya, kiddo, where are my glasses?” Virgil turned to him, “Ya know I can’t see a darn thing without them.”

The bright and sunny smile on Patton’s face seemed to relax something in Virgil, his shoulders dropping and Roman watched the fatigue show on Virgil’s face for a moment, before he offered Patton his glasses.

Patton’s eyes brightened once he could see, his smile even widening a little, “There you are!” he threw his arms wide and Virgil wrapped his arms around Patton, “Oh, I missed you both so much.” Patton squealed when Virgil straightened with Patton in his arms, drawing him back off his feet, “You’re both so tall!”

Virgil laughed quietly, eyes opening as he hid half of his face in Patton’s shoulder. The fatherly Side was giggling and wriggling, arms tight around Virgil, nuzzling Virgil’s hair. The pale lilac eyes met Roman’s own copper ones, filling with tears as he gently put Patton back down on his feet.

“We missed you guys too.” Virgil answered, trying to hide the way his voice was wobbling with a smile, “How are you feeli-”

Patton planted his hands on his hip, a playful but stern expression on his face, “Uh-uh.” he shook his head, “You were up all night looking after Lolo, weren’t you?”

Virgil’s eyes widened slightly, leaning back, “I  _ rested _ .” he offered, “And I….guess, I dozed…”

Roman’s brows furrowed a little, even as Patton tilted his head a little. Virgil  _ was _ kinda tired, but Logan’s soft groan behind him saved him from facing it a little longer. And from the increasingly awkward conversation.

He spun around, missing the shared glance between Roman and Patton, as he hovered over Logan and flipped the cloth. Logan shifted, eyes drifting open, still hazy and tired, “Hey.” Logan murmured, swallowing painfully and blinking slowly, “Can I trouble you for some-”

“Just a word is fine, Lo.” Virgil offered with a smile and the ghost of a smile pulled at Logan’s face.

“Water?”

Virgil darted from the room and Logan tilted his head toward the other two, offering a small smile as Patton moved closer to set his glasses on his face. “How are you doing, Specs?” Roman asked, shifting slightly in the recliner as Patton checked the temperature on Logan’s cheeks.

“Tired mostly now.” he admitted quietly, eyes darting to the archway leading to the dining room, “Look after him?” he asked, eyes sliding between Patton and Roman, “You know what he’s like-”

Patton grinned, nodding as Roman smirked, “We’ll do our best.”

Virgil paused in the archway, finding Patton refreshing the cloth and his eyes met Virgil’s, bright and warm as ever, “Hey, kiddo.” he wrung out the cloth, “Got any more of these? Might be able to break this fever sooner if we had more.”

The anxious Side swallowed, nodding as he stepped in, “Yeah, I think so.” he answered, “Lo, did you still want-”

The logical Side smiled, “ _ Please _ .”

Virgil’s shoulders eased as he carefully perched himself beside Logan, helped him sit up and helped him drink as much as he could manage. Patton silently took over, changing the cloth once Logan was rested back amongst the pillows, and Virgil took a few steps away from the couch.

A warm hand gently wrapped around his wrist, snapping Virgil from his reverie and he turned to find Roman at his side, “Why don’t you find those cloths?” he asked softly, lifting Virgil’s hand to press a soft kiss to the underside of his wrist, “We can watch him for a few moments.”

Virgil’s brow furrowed, but the prince was right. A few moments wasn’t going to put Logan in danger. Patton had cared for a sick Virgil more than enough times, he knew what he was doing. And Roman could at least call for Virgil if it was truly necessary.

He sighed and relaxed, “Yeah, okay, yeah.”

Once the anxious Side had breezed back out of the room, Patton threw him a smile, “We’ve got this.” he winked at Roman, earning a warm and shy smile back.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the morning passed much the same way. Patton only left Logan’s side to make up some breakfast, taking Virgil with him and Roman sat by Logan’s side instead. Roman was more than aware that Virgil was checking in semi-regularly, but Logan was either unaware, or pretending to be.

All the same, it was nice to enjoy the moment together. Roman leant against the couch, Logan’s hand in his filthy hair, “You’re gross.” Logan wrinkled his nose and Roman laughed warmly.

“I almost got bested by a dragon.” he admitted, “I’m pretty sure Virgil cared more about keeping me alive than how I looked.”

Logan smirked warmly, “He’s like that.”

Roman chuckled leaning into Logan’s hand, “You’re such a sap.”

A soft noise of indignance brought a warmer smile to Roman’s face, “How dare you deface me like this.”

“Kiddos! We’re coming through with breakfast!” Patton called and Roman turned his head slightly as Virgil and Patton came through the door with a few plates of food. Logan squirmed slightly, “We tried to keep yours light, Lo, hope you don’t mind.”

Logan smiled gratefully, “It sounds perfect.”

The meal was warm and bright, filled with smiles and laughter and Virgil couldn’t help but watch with his own content smile. When he’d made this home, he’d only  _ imagined _ this in his wildest dreams. He’d never thought it would become reality. He only wished it was under better circumstances.


	14. Unraveling Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Virgil take some time to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Nyx here! Back at it again!  
>  Or rather, realising they had 3 or 4 chapters already written that they'd forgotten to actually post, hahaha. So here! Have some analogical boys bein cute.
> 
> Warnings: Um, some anxiety, a small dose of angst, lots of kisses and fluff

******Unraveling Thoughts**  


When Virgil finally stirred from what _had_ to be the deepest sleep of his _life_ , he found that not only was he comfortable and warm and _safe_ , he was felt _good_ . So good, he didn’t intend on getting up yet. He wasn’t entirely sure which room he was in, or how long he’d been asleep, or _who_ was currently wrapped around him, but he couldn’t find the energy to care. What mattered in that moment of half-asleep bliss, was that he felt good.

He sighed, feeling whatever remained of his tension seeping away and sunk into the soft pillow under his head, drawing the fluffy, heavy blanket closer around him. A soft chuckle behind him, warm air rushing through his hair before someone nuzzled into said hair, “I ought to lecture you.” a familiar, low voice made the fog in Virgil’s mind feel that much _better_. Like being trapped in the Imagination was nothing more than a terrible dream.

“Like you can talk.” Virgil mumbled into the blanket covering half his face, fighting a smile at the indignant huff behind him. The arm over his side tightened slightly, pressing the blanket against him, but he could feel the other smiling as they nuzzled his hair again.

“You’re in a good mood.” they commented softly, curling even closer and sighing into Virgil’s hair, drawing more tension out of Virgil’s shoulders than he realised he had. “Were you not sleeping well?” Lips pressed to the tip of Virgil’s ear and he felt the tingle of sensitive skin, the sparks spreading to his neck and temple.

“No,” Virgil whined, suddenly feeling the need to stretch, “Couldn’t.” Slowly, lazily, he stretched out his legs and the arm around his chest relaxed as he twisted onto his back. A familiar, amused huff filtered through his mind as Virgil arched his back as far as he could, arms rising over his head and dragging the blanket with him. A high-pitched noise escaped him as he was _finally_ able to stretch out days (weeks?) worth of tension, before the urge was gone and he relaxed again.

The hand was resting over his sternum, before gently pulling the blanket down, Virgil’s arms still limp over his head. “There you are.” the voice was low, _always_ low and deep and rumbling, but this time it was so warm and  gentle and soft that Virgil dared to crack his eyes open.

Logan was still flushed, his hair unkempt and glasses slightly crooked, but he had managed to get himself up onto his elbow. The fatigue was still there, pulling at the corner of his lips, even as he smiled fondly down at Virgil, and god, if that didn’t make Virgil feel _safe_.

“How are you feeling?” Virgil asked, fighting a yawn as he looked up at Logan, eyes barely open, lashes dark and thick and hiding his gaze. If Logan didn’t know Virgil as well as he did he would have thought his eyes were closed.

A knowing smirk twitched at Logan’s lip, “As well as can be expected.” he admitted, reaching up to take off his glasses. He rubbed at his eye with the ball of his hand, “And you?”

He sighed, “A little better.” Virgil admitted, one arm moving to gently brush the back of his fingers over Logan’s cheek. He was warm to the touch, much warmer than he should have been, but at least he wasn’t _hot_ to the touch.

Logan returned his glasses to his face, smiling lazily down at Virgil, “Care to elaborate?” his eyes shone, even from behind his own lashes and a smile was twitching at the corner of his lips.

“No words.” Virgil whispered, hand sliding to cup the back of Logan’s neck and the logical Side shivered, pliant as Virgil drew him down to him. Logan’s lips were warm against his, soft and silky and such a perfect fit that Virgil couldn’t help but sigh against him. A smirk twitched at Logan’s own mouth, pressing a little more firmly against Virgil’s own, hand on his chest rubbing firmly up and down his sternum.

Logan pulled back slightly, their breath intermingling as he slid closer, a leg hooking over one of Virgil’s, “You can’t just touch people.” he teased softly, earning a surprised laugh and Logan couldn’t help but quickly seal their lips together again, to feel the fleeting smile before it was gone. Virgil’s hand spread over the nape of Logan’s neck, shifting so his fingers slid up into his thick, dark hair, sending rivulets of fire down Logan’s spine.

It was Virgil who pulled back a little this time, “I _missed_ you.” he whispered, voice full of so much emotion Logan couldn’t ever hope to process or translate it all. He wasn’t the emotional one after all, but he still felt his own heart stirring in response.

“I missed you.” Logan answered just as softly, just as earnest, and Virgil whined, fingers curling and nails scratching down Logan’s scalp. More fire travelled down Logan’s spine, his shoulders tensing as Virgil pressed back up into Logan’s mouth.

Virgil’s fingers spread again, sliding from the back of Logan’s head to his cheek, hearing the other as it moved before feeling the hand on his bicep. There was something about the way Virgil held him, firm but not hard, gentle but not soft, that was just so...comforting and secure. He had tried to unravel it, to understand it, but Logan had given up early. It was just _Virgil_ . Who he _was_.

Meanwhile, Virgil melted under the slow but firm massage of his sternum, the movement equal parts comforting and grounding, a reminder Logan didn’t realise he was saying. Logan pulled back this time, forehead pressing to Virgil’s, panting softly, “I didn’t think I’d get to see you again so soon.” he admitted with a dry chuckle, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat, “It was so long and yet-”

“Too long.” Virgil answered, voice hoarse as Logan pulled back a little further and opened his eyes. There was something so vulnerable and yet so trusting when Virgil’s own eyes opened to meet Logan’s.

A smirk twitched at Logan’s face, tempted to tease the anxious Side, to try and put him at ease. But the vulnerability, the uncertainty hiding just below the surface made him reconsider. Instead, Logan lowered himself to lay on his side, unsurprised when Virgil quickly turned to face him.

“Talk to me.” Logan whispered, one arm acting as a pillow as the other ran up to Virgil’s throat, teasing feather-light touches over the skin just above his collar. His dark brows twitched together for a moment, eyes swirling with more of that uncertainty, “Feelings permitted.”

Another surprised laugh, nothing more than a huff, a shy half-smile pulling onto Virgil’s face when his eyes snapped shut out of habit. Logan remembered how quickly Virgil could close up from here, or anywhere really, how hard it had been for him to actually open up the first time. He vividly remembered too many instances of his eyes opening again, guarded and almost-convincingly naive, denying any of Logan’s probing or questioning.

It was always nice when they opened, swirling with emotion, trusting and unguarded, even if they were uncertain. Logan preferred that over being shut-out.

“I’m worried.” he admitted in a whisper, swallowing as Logan’s fingers traced up to his adam apple, still nothing more than feather-light, teasing touches, “About all of you. This situation. How we get out.” his eyes were dark, voice low and quiet and gravelly, and Logan would never get enough of hearing it.

“Worried about me?”

A soft scoff escaped Virgil, a warm and altogether shy half-smile on his face, “Of course.”

“Elaborate for me.” he whispered, “Unravel it with me.”

There seemed to be something about the way Logan said it, something about _what_ he was asking that always made Virgil relax, the warmth in his eyes intensifying. Sometimes Virgil would launch himself up to pace, venting out frustrations he had kept to himself so long he was about to break. Sometimes he flipped onto his back, staring at the ceiling as he confessed concerns and sought solutions. A few times, Virgil had turned his back, curling into something small, whispering out insecurities and trembling under the weight of it all.

But there was something about times like this, where Virgil was so open and so trusting, even as his eyes drifted anywhere but Logan’s own. Logan let his hand slide back down to Virgil’s sternum, familiar with the way the slow, firm movement grounded his always rapidly moving thoughts.

“I know I scared you.” Virgil whispered softly, eyes landing on Logan’s chest and staying there, “When I broke out.” Though it was tempting to prompt Virgil for more, to encourage him to continue, there was just something about the way his eyebrows drew together, the way the corner of his lip was slowly pulling down. “That it hurt when I was pulled back.”

For a second, Virgil dared to meet Logan’s eyes, unguarded and swirling with depths Logan had once feared he would never understand. His natural desire to understand everything had made it so hard on them in the beginning. Trying to analyse and dissect Virgil in ways that left him raw and scared and angrier than before.

It had taken weeks, countless fights and both Patton and Roman for Logan to finally understand. To stop fearing the depths of Virgil’s eyes, or his mind. If the anxious Side trusted him enough to approach him at all, that was enough. He would open up in time.

And over time, Logan saw more than mere glimpses of the depths. Times like this, where Virgil let Logan see so openly, even if the anxious Side found it impossible to _hold_ the gaze himself.

“It also hurt to see you in pain.” Logan whispered in return, Virgil’s eyes drifting back to Logan’s chest. “I was conflicted, that is true. I wanted you to stay with me, but not if it caused you pain.”

Guilt shifted over Virgil’s face like a shadow, casting darkness into his eyes and bringing his shoulders close, “I was worried.” he offered, a half-finished thought, brows furrowed and eyes shifting quickly over Logan’s chest. An expression Logan wished he had recognised earlier in their relationship. Virgil was searching for the words to say, “How you would feel...the kinds of thoughts you would have-” he bit his lip for a moment, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. Logan felt a swell of pride as he felt Virgil’s chest expand as far as it would go. He released it slowly before releasing his lip to continue, “-if I didn’t _try_ to explain _something_.”

A small smile pulled onto Logan’s face and the movement drew Virgil’s eyes back up to his face, “Though it was distressing to see you in pain and to know you were both trapped with no way for us to help, I am grateful that you tried to explain.” The familiar spark of warm hope ignited in those swirling depths, “I appreciate that you know me well enough to attempt to explain.” That drew a small smile to Virgil’s face, however small or hesitant it may be, “That you not only worried for your own wellbeing, but Roman’s, Patton’s, Thomas’ and my own.”

A more genuine smile pulled onto Virgil’s face with a fond eye roll, “When aren’t I worried about you all?” he teased softly, but there was something under the surface, something tense and uncertain, confirmed by Virgil’s breath hitching involuntarily.

“If there is more you would like to say, Virgil, we have all day.” he whispered, maintaining the rhythm on Virgil’s sternum, “We can work through this together.”

Again, there was that small flicker of warmth, that hopeful shy smile. If Logan could understand how he was doing it, he would do it more often. But for now, he embraced the mystery of it and smiled back.

“Okay…” Virgil breathed, letting his eyes fall closed and drawing in a deep breath, releasing it as slowly as he could. Once more, that swell of pride made Logan’s heart soar and head spin slightly, “I was worried about being apart from you for so long.” he whispered, a hand shyly brushing over Logan’s chest, his eyes following his own fingers, “And now I’m worried about you being _here_.”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Logan’s own chest, something irrational and no doubt stupid if Logan spoke the words aloud. Virgil had fallen silent, however, and Logan feared he wouldn’t get an answer without asking. All the same, he had to phrase the question carefully. It was rare for Virgil to allow Logan to see him so vulnerable for so long without some kind of backlash.

Not if Logan was careless anyway.

“Virgil,” Logan’s tone betrayed how carefully he was broaching this new subject, “I do not understand if you mean to say that I am creating a problem by being here-” Virgil’s eyes snapped to Logan’s and the logical Side forced himself to continue, “-or if you are referring to something else.”

Those swirling eyes widened with alarm, “Oh god, Logan, _no_ , I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Logan pressed a little harder against Virgil’s sternum, “Help me understand, Virgil.” he murmured, doing his best to keep the hurt from his voice. There was no need to be hurt and somewhere, Logan knew that. All the same, something about him being a burden in some way-

Virgil shifted a little closer, “I’m worried about how the Imagination might _hurt_ you-” the words immediately eased whatever pain had seized Logan so quickly, “-I didn’t mean…”

“I understand better now.” Logan answered softly, catching Virgil’s eyes with his own and holding them with a gentle smile. The uncertainty didn’t ease, Virgil’s fingers curling into Logan’s shirt, “You are concerned for my vision primarily, are you not?”

The anxious Side’s eyes widened slightly, “I mean…’primarily’, yeah.” Virgil snickered softly and something tight eased in Logan’s chest. “But that’s not really all.” he admitted with a sigh, relaxing a little more, “Will being around magic this much hurt you? I mean, you’re sick just from being pulled here and-”

Virgil’s words started pouring from his mouth, faster and faster with each attempt to explain, and no amount of pressure on his sternum seemed to pull him back out of it. Logan abandoned that grounding mechanism, using the leg he’d hooked to try and pull Virgil closer.

As the distance between them closed slightly, Virgil’s eyes flicked back to Logan’s and his breath hitched. The realisation flashed in the anxious Side’s eyes, widening slightly, breath hitching again, brows tilting upward with a silent plea.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” Logan murmured, nodding slightly when Virgil’s inhale shook a little, “You are doing very well, Virgil.”

A faint smile pulled onto Virgil’s face as his breathing evened out again, “I’m sorry-” Logan shook his head and Virgil let the apology die on his lips, “Okay, okay…” he let his eyes drift closed and forced himself to sigh, “Okay.” this final one sounded more confident, and when his eyes opened again, Logan could see the swirling depths had settled a little.

“You are concerned for my wellbeing regarding the Imagination specifically.” Logan offered and Virgil nodded with a relieved smile, “While I cannot guarantee I will adjust in any capacity, I can at least agree to inform you if I begin to feel unwell?”

Virgil’s relieved smile turned into a smirk that was full of so much love and adoration that Logan’s mind went blank. What had he done to earn that kind of look from Virgil?

“I would appreciate that.” Virgil whispered, “Thanks.”

Logan nodded, knowing that if he was feeling the heat on his cheeks, Virgil could see it, “It is mutually bene-”

“Don’t do that.” Virgil whispered, voice suddenly low and he leant closer, “Just accept the thanks.”

A surprised huff escaped Logan, “Then you are welcome.”

Virgil pressed their foreheads together, the hand on Logan’s chest sliding to his back, “I really want to keep kissing you now.”

“What’s stopping you?” Logan asked, catching the swirling gaze of Virgil’s, and for once not fearing the depths he saw there.

There was something warm in those violet eyes now, something so utterly adoring that Logan felt his cheeks start to burn as Virgil captured his mouth. It was more heated then before, firm and searching for something. The way Virgil’s arm drew him closer, strong and stable, the soft growl that rumbled up through his  chest, the way he broke the kiss only to explore Logan’s cheeks, told more volumes than Logan had ever expected to be able to understand.

Before Virgil, the idea of communicating through touches like this had seemed absurd. The idea of communicating while their mouths were otherwise occupied had seemed so utterly ridiculous, he was pretty sure he’d laughed at Roman when he’d first brought it up.

And although the language was still hard for him to translate sometimes, he had a remarkably patient teacher.

An unexpected giggle escaped Logan, snapping Virgil from his exploration of Logan’s cheekbones. His eyes were wide with surprise, “You heard nothing.” Logan whispered, smirking as Virgil’s face lit up into a beaming grin.

“Of course not.” Virgil whispered, his voice growing husky. Virgil’s arm on his back held tighter, before Logan found himself on his back, staring up at Virgil who was hovering over him with his hands on either side of Logan’s head.

Logan reached up, hands cupping Virgil’s face and gently pulling him down, “Then get back here.”

A breathy laugh escaped Virgil before their lips met again, and this time, there was nothing to discuss.


	15. Soft Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...I've technically had this in my Drive for a while and I just...kept forgetting to post it??? hehehe, well, here it is! Some soft Royality!
> 
> Warnings: Lots of kissing, lots of touching, a small dash of rejection angst and a good ol' helping of implied nsfw. Enjoy!

 

It hadn’t taken long to get Logan and Virgil up the stairs, and Roman had to admit, it finally made sense that they had been together all this time. How long had it been now? Nearly six months, surely. Watching the way Logan quickly turned onto his side the moment Virgil was close, arm protectively wrapping around his waist and curling so close they were practically one being had been...adorable. And the soft smile that spread on Virgil’s face, the way he’d immediately relaxed and sighed in his sleep, a half-muttered name on his lips...Roman had to admit. They were cute.

He couldn’t help but wonder how it had taken  _ him _ so long to notice.

He hadn’t had much time to ruminate on that though, Patton’s warm hand slipping into his and pulling him quickly back into his own room. The sun hit the window differently here, filling it with light and warmth and Roman smiled at the relieved, warm smile on Patton’s face. The way the sun caught his cheeks and hair and made the freckles stand out on his cheekbones. Even as injured as he was, Roman couldn’t help but catch those soft cheeks in his hands, pulling Patton close for another kiss that went far longer and deeper than he’d anticipated.

Although, he supposed he hadn’t expected  _ Patton _ to miss him. He’d been concerned for Logan and Virgil, yes, and had missed Patton himself, but he hadn’t really considered if Patton would miss  _ them _ .

Patton tugged Roman toward the bed, hands on his hips, the prince stepping forward with him and letting a hand slip up into Patton’s hair, the other waving to close the door gently behind them. A smile pulled onto Patton’s lips as he got his way, the prince following blindly, completely trusting in Patton’s hands. The kiss broke only for Patton to sit on the bed, his lips gently brushing over Roman’s navel.

“I thought you’d missed me-” Patton raised his eyes to Roman, lips still brushing over the hair peppering up to Roman’s chest, “-but I didn’t-”

Patton’s hands slipped up Roman’s back, pulling the prince down as Patton tipped himself backward and Roman had to climb over Patton. The smaller Side giggled, eyes dancing with bright lights as he looked up at Roman, “I missed you.” he admitted, hands exploring the curves, peaks and valleys of Roman’s chest and stomach, “Logan wasn’t the same.”

Something darkened in Patton’s eyes then, something filled with hurt and longing and Roman tilted his head slightly, pressing their foreheads together, “The talk didn’t go well?” he asked quietly, feeling Patton’s breath hitch, “It’s okay, I’m here now.” he brushed a hand over Patton’s cheek, feeling him try to smile up at Roman, “We can talk about it later.”

Patton threw his arms around Roman’s neck, Patton’s lips crashing against Roman’s with more energy, desperate and hungry. Roman tilted his head down, meeting Patton’s hungry movements with firm reassurance, an arm gently sliding under Patton’s waist. The other Side tried to arch against him, fingers tangling in Roman’s hair, searching for something Roman wasn’t sure he could give.

With a little work, he managed to get them lying on the bed right, legs tangled together, twisted a little to the side as Patton still hungrily searched for something. Patton nipped at Roman’s lower lip, working his way in deeper and Roman met every movement with a calm reassurance, his hand splayed over Patton’s back, the other toying gently with Patton’s hair.

Slowly, that hungry desperation calmed and slowed, soothed by Roman’s gentleness, his reassurance, the hand splayed on Patton’s back gently easing off the hoodie and discarding it on the floor. For a moment, he broke the kiss, breathing hard in the air between them, “You good, my love?”

Patton whined, “More.” he met Roman’s lips again, the prince smiling with a soft huff into the kiss and twisting so he lay on his back, Patton resting between his thighs. His hands explored Roman’s chest, Roman’s own sliding up Patton’s shirt and tracing one nail down the length of Patton’s spine.

The kiss broke as Patton leaned into the slow drag of Roman’s nail, making a small, choked whining sound as Roman reached his hips, “God, I missed you,” Patton whined, opening his eyes to meet Roman’s and the prince was floored by the heat burning in Patton’s eyes at that moment.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Roman assured him, hand sliding back up Patton’s spine, “Not if I can help it.”

A relieved smile spread onto Patton’s face, contrasting the flush on his cheeks and the crimson of his lips, “Stay with me?”

Roman smiled back, “As long as you need, my love.” His hand moved from Patton’s hair, tracing down along the emotional Side’s jaw, “What do you need, baby?”

Patton wriggled, “Shirt off.” he huffed, working with Roman to pull the filthy blue polo off and discard it to the floor with the hoodie. Patton’s hands slid over Roman’s chest, tracing old scars and the new contours of Roman’s body before their chests met again. The heat that flushed through Patton, their skin finally meeting again, Roman’s hand tracing down familiar curves and dips in Patton’s back.

“Patton, love,” Roman breathed, Patton’s eyes flicking to meet Roman’s, “I’m not going anywhere,” His eyes flashed with something, even as Roman twisted them again so Patton lay on his back, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His small hands slid over Roman’s chest, sliding up to massage into the coiled muscles of Roman’s shoulders, “I missed you.”

“And I missed you.” Roman whispered, peppering soft kisses to Patton’s cheekbones, “But we can take it slowly,” Patton whined, wriggling a little under Roman who chuckled softly into his ear, “Shhh, baby, shhh.” Patton’s hands slid as far as he could reach, nails tracing over skin and scars, “I’ve got you, my love, I’m here now.”

“Roman,” he whined, arching as far as he could go into Roman’s touch, “I need-”

Roman’s lips met Patton’s, firm and assuring, his hand gently cupping the back of Patton’s neck. He kept the movement slow and firm, listening as Patton’s breathing slowed and deepened, his body relaxing and drinking in all that Roman offered him. Finally, Patton pulled away, eyes shining with love and bright lights, smiling up at Roman.

“I got carried away.” he whispered, hands gently trailing over Roman’s chest, “I’m sorry.”

Roman smirked, “If I weren’t injured, it wouldn’t have mattered, love.” Patton blushed brightly, giggling under Roman, “All is well.”

Patton sighed, beaming up at Roman, “It feels good to have you here again.” he whispered, hands exploring the new dips and curves of Roman’s back, “I missed you both so badly.”

Roman gently pressed a kiss to Patton’s lips, twisting them onto their sides again and tangling their legs together. Patton rested his head on Roman’s arm as the prince played with his hair, one arm pressed against Roman’s chest, the the other over the prince’s waist. Roman’s other hand was sliding from Patton’s hip up to his ribs, trailing even to Patton’s spine and shoulders.

Patton sighed as Roman pressed their foreheads together, Patton’s eyes drifting closed as he enjoyed being close to Roman again, feeling him so near. There was no need to track time or worry about tomorrow, no need to worry about what was happening. Not right now.

After what felt like eternity, Patton let his eyes open, meeting Roman’s bright copper eyes and smiling as the prince did, “Feeling better now, love?”

Patton nodded slowly, “Much.” he relaxed with a sigh, “Logan tried but we’re not...it’s not…”

“Not the same?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded, “I can’t imagine it’s the same with Storm Cloud, either.”

Patton giggled, “No, no it’s not.” he sighed, “I guess, Logan at least tries. And I did appreciate that.” Patton pulled himself as physically close to Roman as he could manage, “But after the talk…”

Roman’s hand ran through Patton’s hair, silencing his thoughts for a moment, “You never did tell me what happened.”

Patton felt Roman press his lips to his forehead, “It was painful and...sometimes still is.” he admitted softly, feeling Roman’s arm tighten around his waist, “Logan doesn’t feel the same for me.” he whispered, “Not the way he does toward you and Virge.”

Roman pressed gently kisses along Patton’s hairline, “This was after?”

“The Big Talk? Yeah.” Patton murmured, “I could tell when he first approached me, when I would initiate contact or he would.” Roman hummed into Patton’s hair, “He was...uncomfortable.”

“So, he’s feelings are deeply platonic?” Roman asked, murmuring into Patton’s hair, “And yours aren’t?”

Patton sighed, “I’m not sure. Logan’s...pretty certain he knows how he feels.” Patton let his hands explore Roman’s back, “With him...I’m not sure.”

Roman nodded, “And what about Virgil?” he asked, trailing more kisses along Patton’s hairline, “Have you two talked about it yet?”

The other Side sighed, “He’s taken to calling me Pat instead of Dad, so...I’m not sure.” Roman smiled like he knew something but waited, “It seems like he wants to but I don’t want to scare him or pick a bad day.”

Roman shook his head, “I don’t think there’s going to be a better time than now.” he answered softly, “I’ve never seen him so... _ unguarded _ .” Patton smirked, “And who knows? Virgil’s feelings might run as deep as your own.”

Patton shifted, pulling Roman closer, “What about you? Talked to Logan yet?”

Roman scoffed, “I had this whole speech planned. Pretty lights and flowers and music.” Patton grinned as Roman groaned softly, “Then I got trapped in here.”

Patton giggled, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Roman laughed with him, “And now he’s sick and we both know how lovesick the left brain boys are.”

Patton rolled his eyes, tipping his head back and Roman shifted to meet his eyes, “You say that like we’re not.”

A bright blush spread over Roman’s cheeks, “Well, ya know, Patton, we’re-”

Patton interrupted him, stealing the words with his lips against Roman’s, the prince sinking into Patton’s slow but firm movements. Patton pulled back, just enough that their lips were almost touching, “I changed my mind.” he whispered hoarsely, voice husky and Roman shivered at the sound, “I really wanna do something for you.”

Whatever protest Roman had, it disappeared as Patton’s hand slipped down his stomach to the waistband of Roman’s pants, teasing the sensitive skin of Roman’s hips, “Patton, I can’t, not yet-”

Patton kissed along Roman’s jaw, “Not  _ that _ , baby,” he whispered, feeling Roman shiver and his head tip back. He took the silent offering, kissing down Roman’s exposed throat, “I just want to make you feel good.”

“This is enough, Patton, really,” Roman answered, barely swallowing a moan as Patton nipped at the sensitive spot at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, “Really, you don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Patton whispered back, teeth grazing along Roman’s collarbone, “Can I?”

Roman whined, hissing softly as Patton’s nail scratched that  _ one _ spot on his hip, “Patton…”

“ _ Please _ ?” Roman managed to pull his head up to meet Patton’s eyes, met with the soft longing he recognised so well. Patton did really,  _ truly _ just want Roman to feel good.

Roman brought Patton’s face up to his, gently kissing Patton, “Only if I get to later.”

Patton giggled, “If you’re not exhausted.”


	16. A Fresh Start

 

Sunlight streamed through Roman’s curtains, bright and cheery, pulling Roman from his haze as he felt the warmth of a body draped over his own. He’d fallen asleep on his back, the other Side draped over his chest, legs settled between his own, an arm slung over their waist. Slow, deep breaths tickled over the royal’s bare chest, the smaller body relaxed against his own.

Slowly, Roman opened his eyes and smiled down at the sleeping Side, the blankets flung around them, tangled around their legs. Patton’s hand was fisted to his lips, resting over Roman’s heart, the other hand tangled in Roman’s. The way the sunlight caught Patton’s hair, catching streams of pure gold, igniting the way Patton’s hair was slowly starting to curl.

Gently, Roman shifted his hand, thumb brushing lazily over the back of Patton’s. The other shifted sleepily, making a deep humming noise in his throat, tilting his head slightly to look up at Roman. A smile was pulling on Patton’s face, the freckles over his nose already starting to darken as the Imagination changed Patton more readily.

The prince sighed, feeling weights still on his eyelids and considered sleeping in. Deep down, in the back of his mind, something told him to get up and  _ do  _ something, to get  _ something _ done. But if there was one thing Roman wasn’t ready to risk, it was a well-rested Virgil forcing him back to bed.

 

* * *

Virgil grumbled softly as he slipped away from sleep, internally cursing that he had to wake up at all, brow furrowing slightly at the thought of facing a new day. The usual weight of responsibility didn’t weigh so heavily on him that morning, and for once, Virgil indulged in the rare feeling of security and safety.

A slender body lay pressed against his chest, breathing heavy and slow, hair tickling Virgil’s cheek as a pulse lightly throbbed against his nose. His arms were wrapped around said body, a hand resting over one of his own, legs tangled together as the familiar scent brought a name and face to mind.

Virgil couldn’t help but smile as he recognised the deep breathing pattern, a time where Virgil woke first. The heaviest sleeper of them all barely stirred as Virgil shifted, releasing the other Side to lean up on one elbow, watching with bright eyes as the other turned onto his back.

A hand swung out carelessly, slapping Virgil gently on the chest before falling to the mattress between them, “Socks are not...condiments…” Logan sleepily protested, brows drawing together slightly as his fingers twitched and danced.

“No, they’re not.” Virgil softly answered, voice husky from sleep, his hand resting over Logan’s stomach. The other shifted with a hum, his side against Virgil’s stomach and chest, face half-hidden in the anxious Side’s loose shirt.

“Hate running…” he murmured, nuzzling into Virgil’s shirt, before flinging himself onto his side, arm carelessly wrapping around Virgil’s waist.

The anxious Side barely smothered a chuckle as Logan nuzzled further against Virgil’s chest, “I know you do.” Virgil answered, “Why are you running?”

Though rare, it wasn’t often that Virgil ever caught Logan in that perfect state of half-sleep. Where Logan thought he was awake, but his dream lingered in the periphery. Today seemed to be one of those days, “Frogs…” he muttered, eyes fluttering open but glassy and unfocused, “Chasing me…”

Virgil gently stroked the back of his fingers over Logan’s cheek, “Frogs, baby?”

“ _ Big  _ frogs…” his eyes slid around the room, focusing on things Virgil couldn’t see, “Hm, dance?”

Virgil knew the dream had already shifted, “What kind?” he asked, smiling as Logan closed his eyes again.

“Sssslow.” he slurred, nuzzling Virgil’s chest again, “Soft…”

Virgil ran his fingers slowly through Logan’s hair, feeling the side shift and relax, his breathing getting a little slower, “Go back to sleep, baby.” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to Logan’s forehead.

“Why?” he asked, voice high-pitched and verging on whiny, “Wanna dance…” he pouted into Virgil’s chest and the anxious Side felt it more than he saw it.

“We can dance,” Virgil whispered, feeling the weight return to his own eyelids as Logan made a happy noise in his throat, throwing a leg wildly over Virgil’s, “Slow, yeah?”

“Slow…” Logan murmured with a nod, “Close to you…”

Virgil smiled, wrapping an arm protectively around Logan’s shoulders, “Of course, baby.”

 

* * *

Hot water rushed over his skin, sinking into tense muscles and uncoiling whatever tension still remained deep down inside, and Virgil sighed into the otherwise quiet bathroom. Steam rolled through the room, making the room hazy and dream-like, Virgil’s eyes opening to watch the water as it spattered over tiles and drained away.

There was so much to do and he knew that. But how? Where to even start? He knew now that Thomas was fine, still functioning perfectly well while they remained trapped in the Imagination. And although Virgil wanted to doubt that, he couldn’t help but admit it  _ was _ a relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about Thomas getting himself killed or worse...just  _ dying _ .

All the same, he couldn’t help but worry. Logan was poorly equipped for the Imagination, unaccustomed to magic and practically blind. Patton wasn’t really affected by the softer aspects of the Imagination, but Roman wasn’t in control any more. Who knew what Patton would see now?

Virgil felt an involuntary cold shiver run down his spine despite the hot water over his skin. He didn’t want to think about that right now. No. He would deal with that when it happened... _ if _ it happened.

He sighed to himself as he pushed off the wall, tipping his head up to let the water rush over his face and through his hair. But where did they  _ start _ ? He could get Roman to try and summon the door again, see what happened? If it was fruitless, then where?

Virgil stepped back out of the water, turning the water off and missing the warmth as it was replaced with the cold bite of the steam. His mind wandered as he dried himself and dressed, wiping the mirror dry out of habit to apply make-up he...didn’t have to apply anymore.

He scoffed to himself as he turned away from the mirror, towel still in his hair as he turned and opened the door. The hall felt warmer, steam drifting out as Virgil padded softly down the hall and paused to peer through his ajar door.

Logan had flopped onto stomach, arm hanging off the bed, fingers brushing the dark carpet. The logical Side was still fast asleep, his flush already starting to fade, breathing slow and deep. Seeing Logan again, knowing he was close no matter what happened...it soothed whatever rampant thoughts were swirling in the back of Virgil’s mind.

His eyes drifted to Roman’s room, ears picking up a telltale giggle, a smile lifting onto Virgil’s face. Even having Patton near, even if their relationship was...undefined...was better than not knowing. Better than  _ hoping _ and  _ trying _ to settle the coil of nerves that always whispered ‘ _ what if _ ’.

The anxious Side made his way down the stairs, discarding the damp towel on the back of a dining chair as warm sunlight filtered over his face and warmed his skin. An idea occurred to him as he lazily drifted through the kitchen, preparing himself a late breakfast and it made the smile widen.

If he couldn’t take a step forward on the Imagination and how to get out, at least he could keep them close. Whatever came their way...they’d be fine if they were together.


End file.
